Crazy in love
by MelShep
Summary: Harleen Quinzel is trying to prove herself as a doctor of psychiatry, in a corrupt asylum full of liars, thieves, and thugs (not to mention the patients). The only thing keeping her going is the strange relationship building between her and one of her more fascinating patients. But what does the Joker want with her? (A twisted love story: more romance, less abuse, than comics.)
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello all, I hope you enjoy my new story. It's one I've been thinking about for a while, and I've got lots of ideas about where it's going, so let's see what happens!_**

 ** _Just a little bit of info, this is a story about Harley and Joker, but though it is based on the characters from the movies, comics, and games, it's my own interpretation of their story. I invent my own version of Harley, and my own story about these two, how they meet, and how their relationship develops. Their relationship will be different to how it is in the comics and games, because that's the world I have created, so please don't tell me that I'm not being true to the original content, because I know! :)_**

 ** _So yes, it's a unique story, with elements taken from other sources. I hope you enjoy it, I'd love your feedback!_**

* * *

Doctor Harleen Quinzel looked at herself in the full length mirror of her small apartment. She still didn't feel right. Something was wrong with how she looked, but she couldn't figure out what. She regarded herself again, turning to the side to try and work out what it was. She wore a black skirt cut to the knee, and a plum coloured blouse. Dark stockings on her legs, and simple black shoes with a small heel. Her blonde hair was pulled into a neat bun on the top of her head, because she had hoped this would make her appear more legitimate. She wasn't sure if it had worked, but she didn't have time to change it now. She was late.

Harleen adjusted her square black glasses, grabbed her keys, and headed for the door. It would not form a great impression if she was late on her first day of her new job.

Harleen was not sure how to feel about her new role. When she graduated as a doctor of psychiatry, she had hopes of opening her own practice: treating young adults and children who had been through trauma, and helping them to find ways to manage their emotions and continue with their lives. However, she had spent the last few months of her training caring for her sick mother, who died only days before final exams. Harleen had not got the results she wanted, meaning she couldn't get the job she had hoped to get, and was therefore unlikely to save enough money to open her own practice any time soon.

It was only through sheer luck that she had managed to land a job at all. Her friend Sarah was a doctor at Arkham Asylum, located on a small island outside Gotham. She had managed to sweet talk the warden into giving Harleen a chance.

"I don't know the first thing about how to deal with criminals," Harleen had said, when Sarah gave her the news (she had of course failed to inform Harleen of her idea until after securing her the job). "I majored in child psychology."

Sarah had shrugged, in the way she always did when she thought Harleen was worrying over nothing. "It's not so different, many of our patients have the minds of children anyway. It's not like you'll be dealing with the super villains."

"I don't know," Harleen had sighed. "This isn't how I pictured my life turning out, I had a plan..."

Sarah had patted her arm reassuringly. "You've spent your life making plans Harley, but life doesn't work like that. Why don't you try just going with something for a change?"

So that's what she'd done, she'd gone with it. And this morning she'd put her smartest outfit on, and told herself all she had to do was look confident and try her best. Who needed a plan? What's the worst that could happen?

* * *

The positive attitude lasted until she arrived at the gates. They were opened by a guard sat inside a small hut, who didn't even glance at her ID before letting her in, because he was too busy doing a crossword. "Well that's safe," Harleen muttered as she drove up the long driveway towards the Asylum. The sky had darkened, and it was beginning to rain. She turned on the squeaky wipers of her old car, gritting her teeth at the irritating sound. She glanced around, she could see some patients in their orange jumpsuits raking leaves to her left, while a few others appeared to be planting some flowers. They can't have been too dangerous, they only had one guard, though he was armed. Harleen took a deep breath, how do you know which ones are the dangerous ones?

She continued up the driveway, and the buildings came into view. Sarah had told her that the Asylum itself was made up of five buildings: the penitentiary, where the patients lived, the medical facility, where most of the treatment occurred, intensive treatment, the botanical gardens, and the old mansion, which was mainly offices.

Harleen's work would be based in the medical facility, though as yet, she was still not entirely sure of her role.

Harleen parked her car in the small car park behind the medical facility. The rain was pouring now, had of course she had forgotten her umbrella. Harleen opened the door quickly, and stepped out, straight into a puddle. "Oh, shit!" She groaned, as her left foot filled up with water. "Great."

She slammed the car door and hurried towards the steps to the medical facility. Inside she found the front desk, which was empty. Harleen waited for a few moments, not entirely sure what she was supposed to do now. She tapped her fingers anxiously on the desk, only now realising she had forgotten to remove the chipped black nail polish. _Really professional,_ she thought..

"Can I help you?"

Harleen turned around, a stressed looking woman carrying several files was approaching the desk. Her hair was dark brown, and escaping from her ponytail, and she slammed the files down on the desk hurriedly. She looked like the last thing she wanted to do was deal with someone new, and didn't look up from her files when Harleen spoke.

"Yes, hello, I'm Harley..Harleen, Doctor Harleen Quinzel," Harleen kicked herself, she always stumbled over her words when she was nervous, but the other woman didn't seem to be paying that much attention. "How can I help you doctor? If it's about the heating in treatment room B all I can say is that I called maintenance an hour ago-"

Harleen shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm new. I'm supposed to be starting here today."

The woman still didn't look up. "Sorry, we get so many new faces, it's hard to remember who actually works here."

"Do you have lots of staff then?"

She shook her head again. "No, no one ever stays for very long." She was typing something on her computer now, unaware of the slightly terrified look that crossed Harleen's face.

"Ok let's see here. What did you say your name was? Arleen?"

"Harleen, but everyone calls me Harley."

"Ok Carly, I'll get someone to take you to your office. You can access your computer from there and that will give you your appointment list for today."

Harley was going to correct her, but decided it was easier just to go along with it.

* * *

It turned out that Harley's office was over in the mansion, which was a fifteen minute walk from the medical facility. Harley might've been able to get there quicker, but the man who had been chosen to take Harley to her new office was actually one of the residents ("he's harmless, don't worry", the woman had said before going back to her files), and he insisted on giving Harley a complete run down of the entire facility, including every statue, bench, and trash can they crossed, on the way to the mansion. That might not have been so bad, if it wasn't for the torrential rain. By the time they reached the mansion Harley was soaked to the skin, freezing cold, and feeling less like a doctor than ever.

The patient, who was called Timothy, took her to her office, then bowed as he left, which made Harley smile for the first time that day. She looked around at the office. It was small, not much more than a box room, but it had a desk with a computer, and a relatively comfy looking couch, as well as a bookshelf filled with books and journals on psychiatry, and a small rubber plant in the corner which looked as though it had seen better days. _It could be worse,_ Harley thought, sitting down on the chair in front of her desk. She powered on the computer and typed in the log-in details the woman at the desk had given her.

Harley had never been great with computers, so it took her a good ten minutes to find her appointment diary, and then another five to open it.

"Meet with Warden Sharp for tour of facility," she read aloud. "9.30am." She looked at her watch: 9.28am. "Oh crap!" She muttered, jumping up from the chair and running to the door. She swung it open and raced out, immediately colliding with someone. Papers were everywhere, fluttering down through the air like moths.

"I'm so sorry," Harley said to the doctor she had just collided with.

"Accidents happen," the female doctor said in a brisk voice, sounding as though they did, in fact, not happen.

"Let me help," Harley offered, kneeling down to help pick up all the paperwork. She hastily collected the scraps of paper, knowing she would never be able to get them back into whatever order they were in before. As she reached for another sheet she paused. She recognised the face in the picture. Everyone in Gotham knew that face. "The Joker," she muttered.

She looked up at the doctor, about to ask if they were any closer to catching him, when she realised the doctor was not the only person in the hallway. Behind her were two heavily armed guards, and in between both of them was the man himself. Strapped to a prisoner movement gurney, the Joker looked exactly like all the pictures Harley had seen. Dark green hair, pale skin, cold grey eyes. His suit was dark purple and stained, it looked as though he had had a rough night. His arms were strapped to his sides, and he wore a look of quiet amusement as he regarded her.

Harley's mouth was a desert. She hurriedly picked up the rest of the papers and passed them to the doctor, before stepping back against the wall. The doctor continued down the corridor, with the two guards pulling the gurney behind them. The Joker's eyes never left Harley. She could feel them boring into her as she looked at the floor. After what felt like an eternity, they had turned the corner and were out of sight.

Harley finally allowed herself to breathe. Her heart was racing. She had just come face to face with arguably the most dangerous criminal Gotham had ever seen. She was frightened, terrified really, but there was also something else. A buzz. Maybe this job would have something she had never planned for: excitement? Maybe it would be something that would truly make her feel alive, like her life wasn't just a boring series of events she was watching rather than experiencing. Maybe this would be the thing to make her feel like she was living, not just existing?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hi all, hope you like the new chapter. Just to say: I'm aware my Harley might be very different in some ways to the one we know and love, she's more cautious, nervous etc around the super villains. However that may not always be the case, and I hope you can enjoy watching her grow and develop. Also, my Joker already has the metal teeth, but in this story it is nothing to do with Harley, and we're yet to find out how it happened!**_

 _ **Thanks to MadLovexxx for the review of the last chapter. If anyone who reviews also includes a link to (or the name of) any of their stories they think I would like, I'd love to read them! It's nice to see other people's take on these characters and be inspired :)**_

* * *

Harley had been at Arkham for a week, but every day there was something new to learn. And how did she learn these new things? Because she was constantly making mistakes. Don't turn your back on that patient, he likes to throw bodily fluids when you're not looking. Don't smile at that one, it makes him bite down into his lips until they bleed. Don't let that patient use your pencil for the tests, he likes to jam it into his neck.

"You'll pick it up," Sarah had said reassuringly as they took their lunch together in the small staff room.

"I don't know about that," Harley sighed, watching as several guards came into the room and began pouring coffee. "I just feel like I'm constantly doing or saying the wrong thing."

"You're too hard on yourself," Sarah replied. "It could be worse. I've got Zsasz telling me he wants to kill me three times a week."

Harley felt her mouth open a little. "Really?" Victor Zsasz was a serial killer, who killed without reason or pattern: men, women, children, the elderly, all were fair game. After he killed, he carved a mark on his body, and there was scarcely a spot on his body that wasn't scarred.

"Yep," Sarah nodded. "He's even shown me where he'd cut himself after he does it. Apparently he's got a special spot saved for me." Harley was surprised at how relaxed Sarah seemed at the idea.

"Be careful," she said.

Sarah shrugged. "He's in here, locked up every minute of the day when we're not having a session. I'm not worried." She smiled, squeezed Harley's arm, and got up from the couch. "Speaking of which, I'm off to meet the charming guy now. See you later."

Harley waved goodbye, then glanced at the clock. She still had a few minutes before her final appointment of the day. She thought longingly of five o'clock, when she could head home, get into the bath, and forget about the stress and mistakes of the week.

"Hey Quinzel, want a coffee?" One of the guards was asking her. Harley looked up, it was Aaron Cash, one of the few guards at Arkham who seemed genuinely pleasant. She shook her head, "No thanks, I need to go in a minute." Cash nodded, taking his cup and heading out of the room.

Another Doctor came in, Doctor Jeremy Ross. He'd been at Arkham for years, and had been far too friendly for Harley's liking. He was in his early forties, had dark brown hair and a little goatee beard, and reminded Harley of a university professor who pays too much attention to his students. He made her skin crawl. She silently prayed that he wouldn't come over but, of course, today was not her day.

"Harley, how are you today?" _I hate that he calls me that, we're not friends._

"Fine thank you Doctor Ross."

"Please Harley, call me Jeremy," he grinned, putting a hand on her knee. "We're all friends here." Harley shifted to remove his leg.

"Yes," Harley muttered. "Well, I better get going."

Doctor Ross put his hand on her leg again. "Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. I'm hoping to write a paper on one of our patients, one with…ah...a rather complicated history. I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me in the interviews? I need someone to make notes, and generally bounce ideas off. It would be good professional development for you, and who knows, you might prove yourself useful with regards to a diagnosis." He smiled at this, as if the very idea that Harley could bring any kind of value to his research was almost laughable, which made Harley positively seethe. She, however, smiled politely, as she was used to doing when people upset her. She adjusted her glasses slightly and asked. "What is the patient's name?"

The doctor shrugged. "That's one of the things we're hoping to find out." He smiled at the bemused expression on Harley's face, as though she were a child. He continued. "We all know him as 'The Joker'. A name I imagine you are a lot more familiar with."

Harley's heart raced. "You're interviewing the Joker?"

"Absolutely."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "I thought I read that he's completely uncooperative during therapy sessions, and that the last person who tried to write a thesis on him ended up in Arkham themselves?"

Ross' smile flickered slightly. "She wasn't in for long, and that's beside the point. I've been in this field for almost 20 years. I've seen it all. I think I can handle this." He squeezed Harley's knee again, and she felt the overwhelming urge to kick him in his smug face. "This is a great opportunity, for the both of us. So how about it sweetheart? Feel like joining the big boys?"

Harley gritted her teeth. "Let me sleep on it."

* * *

"Sleep on it?!" Sarah's tone was incredulous. "What is there to sleep on? Either you want to do it or you don't, and to be honest you'd be crazy to pass it up!"

"Crazy?" Harley raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, perhaps the wrong choice of word," Sarah smiled, picking up her glass of wine from the small coffee table in Harley's tiny living room. "But you know what I mean. Getting to sit in on interviews with one of the most dangerous criminals Gotham has ever seen… What's stopping you?"

"Being in a room with one of the most dangerous criminals Gotham has ever seen!" Harley laughed. "It's terrifying! I saw him the other day and nearly peed myself. How would I cope in the same room? What if he spoke to me?"

"So what?" Sarah shrugged in that incredibly frustrating way.

"So…I'd have no idea what to say. I'd make myself seem like an idiot, I have zero experience dealing with patients like this."

"Surely that's even more reason to go for it?" Sarah suggested. "This is the kind of thing most psychiatrists dream about, if I could take your place I'd be there in a heartbeat. Unfortunately Dr Ross doesn't like redheads." She grinned, tossing her bright red hair dramatically. Harley rolled her eyes. "That's another thing," Harley began. "He's only asking me to join him because he wants to get in my pants."

"So what?" Sarah repeated with that same shrug. "You're not going to let him, and it's not like he can jump you there and then with the Joker in the room!"

"I guess you're right."

"I always am," Sarah smiled triumphantly. "Trust me, this could be the best decision you ever make. Plus, you'll never worry about dealing with dangerous patients ever again after a few sessions with this guy."

Sarah was right, and Harley knew she'd been beat. Of course she was curious, there probably wasn't a soul in Gotham who didn't want to learn more about the Joker. And terrified, of course. But there was something else too, a feeling she couldn't quite describe. Excitement? No, that couldn't be right, but something like it.

* * *

On Monday morning Harley arrived outside the interview room. Dr Ross was waiting for her, holding a pile of notes. He smiled when she arrived, immediately dropping the notes into her hands. She struggled a little under the weight. "Morning Harley." He said, his eyes on her chest rather than her face. Harley scowled, she had specifically worn the least seductive blouse she owned, with some ill-fitting pants, just to try and keep the doctor's mind off her body. It had clearly not worked. "Good morning Doctor," she muttered, trying not to drop the papers onto the floor as she held them against her chest in an attempt to block his view.

"The patient is inside." Ross continued. "I plan to keep the first session rather brisk: a little introduction as to who I am, what I'm doing, why he would make an important addition to my work, and then out. Ok?"

"Uh…yes. Are you going to ask him anything about himself?"

Ross looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well…you said you'll talk about you, but…you know, don't you want to talk about him too?"

Ross waved her comments away. "I doubt we'll have to worry too much. By all accounts once he's got going he won't shut up. Right let's go."

Before Harley could say anything else, Dr Ross had opened the door and disappeared from sight. Harley took a deep breath, steadied the pile of papers, and followed him.

The room was rather dark, the only window being small, frosted, and high on the wall close to the ceiling. The room was empty besides a metal table and chairs. The Joker was on on of the chairs. He wore a straight jacket, and was strapped into the chair, which in turn, was bolted to the floor. He watched silently as Harley and the doctor entered the room. Joker's green hair was neatly styled, but the cold light in the room made his pale skin look even whiter. His lips were dark, and Harley didn't know if it was lipstick, tattooing, or something else.

Ross sat down at the chair opposite the Joker, turning on a tape recorder he had removed from his pocket, and placing it on the table. Harley sat beside him, placing the papers down in front of her. She picked up her pen, ready to take notes, but with no idea of what exactly she was supposed to write.

"Taped patient interview number one. Patient is 'The Joker'. No other name known. In the room is myself, Doctor Jeremy Ross, Doctor Harleen Quinzel." A flicker of a smile crossed The Joker's face, and then it was gone again. Harley wondered if she imagined it."And the Joker," Ross finished.

"Morning Doc," The Joker said to Ross.

"Good morning. I'm Doctor Ross. I will be conducting a series of interviews with you over the next few weeks, possibly months, with regards to a paper I am publishing on psychosis and extreme personalities."

"And you came to little old me?" The Joker drawled. "I'm flattered." He ignored Harley now, his cool grey eyes fixed solely on Ross.

"I was hoping you and I could get to know each other," Ross continued. "Perhaps if we learn to trust each other, we will find it easier to open up."

Harley mentally rolled her eyes. Everything this guy said sounded ridiculous. Did he have any experience at all working with patients like this?

Joker, however, almost seemed to be taking the bait. "We will? Are we going to be sharing all our dirty little secrets with each other?"

Ross didn't break his gaze. "If you are honest with me, I will be honest with you."

Joker leaned back in his chair, or as much as he could in the straight jacket. "Ok then, you first."

"What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about you, Doctor Ross." Joker had a habit of drawing out the last word in a sentence, as if he were trying to make the most of each delicious syllable.

Ross thought for a moment. "Ok, well you already know my name."

"Middle name? I always like those."

"Timothy."

Joker's face flickered, but he simply said. "Are you married, Doctor Ross?"

"No I'm not."

Another flicker. "Why not?"

"I suppose I haven't met the right woman. What about you?"

Joker grinned. "I don't think I'm the right woman for you Doc, but flattered none the less." Harley stifled a smile, still pretending to take notes. To Ross' credit, he didn't flinch. "No, I mean it's your turn. I told you my name, you tell me yours."

"Jack."

Harley stopped pretending to write, was this the truth? Ross looked skeptical. "Really?"

"Like you said, we need to be honest. You knowing my name doesn't earn you anything I don't want. A name is meaningless."

Ross clicked his fingers at Harley, which she guessed was an indication to start writing, if about as subtle as a brick. Joker glanced at her momentarily, then was straight back to his stare-off with Ross.

"What about a last name?"

"Not yet."

Ross held up his hands. "Ok, Jack. Can I call you that?"

Joker shrugged. "Why not?"

"Ok Jack. Do you want to tell me anything else about your life? Sharing in itself is a form of therapy."

"You first Doc. Where did you grow up?" Joker asked, and Harley began to wonder if this man ever blinked. He could hold a stare for the longest time.

"Metropolis. You?"

Joker shifted a little, then sighed. "I was born in America, but travelled to England as a child…"

Ross glanced at Harley with an almost frenzied expression, and she began to write. Something didn't feel right though. It was all too easy. Still, she wrote down all that he said.

"My parents died of some illness with a name I can't pronounce, leaving me stranded and penniless. I spent some time begging, some time doing casual work in exchange for a bed for the night. I went to sleep hungry almost every night."

Ross' eyes were widening, and Harley could practically hear his thoughts: "This is gold! No one has ever got this information! I'm going to be famous!"

Joker continued. "But then, I hear of a ship heading back home, and I win tickets aboard in a poker game!"

Harley paused. Why did this sound so familiar?

"It was just me and my best friend Fabrizzio. We got onto the ship and set sail for America. Little did we know that tragedy would strike."

"What happened?" Asked Ross.

Joker continued, looking at his feet. "We had been aboard for a while. I met this beautiful woman, Rose. I fell in love with her instantly. She was troubled, she tried to kill herself but I-" Joker stopped, only now looking at Harley. She hadn't been writing for a while, and realised she had been unknowingly wearing a skeptical expression.

"Am I boring you, sweetheart?" He asked, those cold eyes locking with hers. Harley couldn't look away, she was frozen. But Doctor Ross bought her back to reality. "Harley, what the hell are you doing? You're supposed to be taking notes!"

"Sorry doctor," Harley hurriedly replied, looking away from Joker finally. "It's just…"

"Don't interrupt!" Ross sounded almost hysterical. "Jack, you were saying?"

But Joker's eyes were still on Harley. "No, no. Please. Let's hear what the lady has to say."

Harley could practically hear Ross' jaw clench, but he said nothing. She took a breath. "Well, it's just… Those things you said, that's not your story. It's from the movie Titanic. Jack Dawson is the guy who dies at the end."

Ross looked angry, then confused, then angry. He turned back to the Joker. "Is that true? All of that was from a movie?"

Suddenly the walls echoed with the sound of laughter. The Joker was laughing raucously, throwing his head back to show the glittering silver of his teeth.

"Get him out of here!" Ross yelled, getting to his feet, and two guards appeared from the door behind Joker. They unstrapped him from the chair and straight onto the transport gurney. He was still laughing as he left, and Harley listened as the sound echoed off the walls, gradually fading into silence.

Ross dropped back into his chair, and the two of them sat silently for a few moments. Ross reached across and grabbed the notes she had been writing; tearing them to shreds. "We'll try again in a few days."

"Good idea," Harley muttered. "He should've stopped laughing by then."

She hadn't meant to say it, it just slipped out, but she could tell by Ross' expression that he was furious she'd make a joke at his expense. Harley smiled, got to her feet, and scuttled out of her room, trying not to grin at how easy it had been for the clown to make a respected doctor look like a complete fool.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much to everyone who read the last chapter, it was lovely to get so many new story followers! Also thanks to Jokersth and the guest who reviewed the last chapter, it was so nice to read those. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I'm building up for a long period of Joker/Harley Arkham relationship stuff, as I always thought it was fascinating to imagine a slow build of their relationship, perhaps with one really pushing for it and the other not being so sure (I'm sure you can imagine which one is which!).**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The patient interviews continued in this way for several sessions. Each time Doctor Ross thought he'd made a breakthrough, Harley would have to explain that the Joker had actually just made a fool out of him all over again.

"That's the plot to the movie, The Notebook." Or, "Doctor, I believe those are lyrics from the song The Killing of Georgie." Or, more embarrassingly, "I think he's describing how to make cheese."

After each embarrassing realisation for the doctor, the Joker would break into hysterical laughter, and the session would be over. Doctor Ross was becoming more and more agitated, but Harley couldn't understand why. Surely the Ross had spent time with difficult patients before? And he couldn't have expected this case to be easy?

Ross finally admitted why he was so on edge at the beginning of their fifth session.

"It's my publisher. He's hassling me for a completion date," Ross muttered, ripping up another page of useless notes from the last session.

Harley raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty early, we only started a week ago."

Ross looked even more tense. "Yes, but, well, they funded me for it over a year ago, the last time we had Joker. I had no idea he was going to escape and ruin everything."

 _Yeah I'm sure his victims really feel for you,_ Harley thought, internally rolling her eyes.

"I managed to delay everything, but now he's here I need to get some results, otherwise…" He trailed off.

"I suppose you could always give their money back?" Harley suggested, knowing full well that he would certainly have spent it by now, but just wanting to watch him squirm. She got what she wanted, Ross shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and for once she felt superior to him.

Harley's feeling of power didn't last long. The doors opened and Joker was bought in on his transport gurney. His presence always filled the room, even without him saying anything, and she couldn't help but admire him that.

 _No. Not admire. That would be absurd._

Harley watched silently as Joker was removed from the gurney, still in his straight jacket, and strapped into he chair. As usual, he didn't even look at Harley, his eyes fixed straight on Ross. "How is the good doctor today?" He asked, grinning.

"Let's try something new today," Ross said. The Joker didn't even flinch at Ross ignoring his question..

"Sure thing Doc, what have you got for me?"

Ross turned around and waved at the door behind him. Two Doctors appeared carrying what Harley immediately identified as a polygraph machine.

"Well this is new, Doctor," Joker said, almost lazily. "No one has _ever_ thought to use one of these on me." He rolled his eyes, and Harley had to bite her lip to stop from smiling. Did he glance at her then? No, she must've imagined it.

Harley leaned in to Ross as the men removed one of Joker's arms from the straight jacket, immediately tied it to the chair, then attached the wires for the polygraph. "Are we allowed to do this?" She whispered.

"What?" Ross asked, looking for a paper amongst the hundreds on the table.

"This," Harley continued, gesturing to the Joker but trying to act casual as she whispered. "You can't conduct this kind of test against his will."

"Don't worry about me, I'm happy to try anything new," Joker replied, grinning widely.

The men left, leaving Harley, Ross, and Joker alone. Joker was still grinning.

"Let's begin," Ross began briskly. "Everything you told us so far has been a lie, true or false?"

"True," Joker replied. Ross sighed, he was telling the truth.

"Did you ever intend to tell us the truth?"

"Yes."

Ross looked at the output on the machine again. Truth. This seemed to catch him off guard. "Well…why didn't you?"

"Because you are a liar yourself doctor Ross."

True.

"What do you mean?" Ross asked, beginning to sound angry.

"You told me your middle name was Timothy."

"Yes?"

"Now come on Doc, we both know that's a big fat lie." The Joker's grin stretched wider, his voice gravelly and excited.

"I don't see how you-"

"Your middle name is Robert. Jeremy Robert Ross."

 _True._

Ross paused. "Ok, a small lie. I never liked my middle name."

"That's how they start," Joker continued. "All our lies start small, but they get bigger and bigger."

"I don't see how you can-"

"Like where you're from. You didn't grow up in Metropolis, you were born and raised right here in Gotham."

 _True._

"How did you-"

"And as for being unmarried, I know that you and your lovely wife Karen live in the city with your son Alex and your daughter Olivia."

 _True._

Ross froze. Joker continued. "I know that you will go back to your beautiful house on Elm Drive this evening, get into the blue slippers your wife keeps threatening to throw out, and have a glass of brandy in your office. Then, later on, you'll tuck your children into bed, go back downstairs, and watch dirty movies on your own while your wife cries in the bedroom."

Ross stood up. "I don't have to take this-"

"And I know that if you don't do that, it's because you'll be trawling the streets of lower Gotham, on the look out for a pretty girl you can pass the time with. What does it matter if she's a little young-"

"Shut up!" Ross slammed his hands down on the desk.

"Doctor!" Harley stood up, trying to get in between the Doctor and patient as Ross lunged at Joker. Ross shoved her out of the way, "Get out of the way you little bitch!"

But Harley wouldn't. "You need to calm down and remember where you are Doctor Ross. I think it's time we ended this session."

But Ross didn't seem ready to end just yet. "You don't call the shots here little girl. You're the one busy playing doctor while the rest of us try to break new ground. You're the one who got this job thanks to a good friend and a low cut shirt. You're the one too busy screwing up to realise you're not cut out for this place and the work we do!" Finally he had exhausted himself, and sat back down on the chair, defeated. Harley was furious, furious and hurt. And embarrassed. She didn't dare look at Joker. Instead she simply turned on her heel and left the room.

What she didn't hear, as she left the room, were Joker's final words to Ross. "Don't talk to the lady like that."

* * *

Harley arrived home late, struggling under the weight of all her paperwork. She seemed to have more to do this weekend than she'd had all week. She threw the papers down on her kitchen table, knowing she couldn't even think about looking at them until she'd had a bath, some chocolate, and at least half a bottle of wine.

This week had been one of the most stressful she had experienced for a long time. Not only were Ross' interviews with Joker exhausting, but she'd had little progress with several of her other patients, which left her feeling disheartened.

And there was something else. I kind of nervous anticipation she'd been feeling all week. She put it down to anxiety before each session with Joker: the knowledge that she would be sitting in a room with one of the most dangerous, unpredictable criminals Gotham (and perhaps the world) had ever seen. But there was also something more, something she couldn't explain, a feeling that had no name at the moment.

Harley sighed. This was not the night to delve into her own train wreck of a mind, not when she spent all week doing that to other people. No, tonight she would allow herself some time, even if it was just a couple of hours, to relax and just be herself.

She got up and headed to the bathroom. The apartment was small, just the bedroom, bathroom, and the kitchen/living room. The bathroom barely had room for her bath, but that didn't matter right now.

She turned on the water, turning the hot tap as far as it would go. Harley had always liked her bath water to be almost scalding hot. It was the only way she felt truly relaxed. As she removed her clothes there was a knock at the door. She turned back: she could see the front door through the open bathroom one. She hadn't buzzed anyone in to the building, who was this?

They knocked again. Harley quickly threw on a robe and headed for the door. She looked through the peephole. There was a man wearing a black cap and some kind of uniform she didn't recognise. He was holding a package. She opened the door, keeping it on the latch.

"Yes?" She asked through the gap.

"Ms Quinzel?" The man asked. He had a friendly face, and smiled politely.

"Yes."

"Package for you ma'am." He held out the package, too big to fit through the gap. Harley shut the door to undo the latch, then opened it wider. She took the package from the smiling man, who nodded, and headed back down the hall.

"Don't I need to sign for it?" She called after him, but he didn't hear, or at least pretended not to.

Harley stepped back into her apartment, holding the package curiously, forgetting about the bath water that was climbing ever higher and threatening to escape over the top of the tub at any moment. The package was about the size of a shoe box, and wrapped in brown paper. She turned it over, but there was no writing on it at all. She stopped. _How did the delivery guy know to bring it here? To deliver it to me?_

She put the box down on her coffee table, and sat on the couch staring at it. What was inside? Was it dangerous? Who did she know who would send her anything? The only person who ever sent her mail, other than her landlord telling her the rent had gone up again, was her mother, but she was dead now.

Harley shook her head, angry at herself for being so timid. In a moment of wrecklessness she grabbed the package and hastily unwrapped it.

Inside was a box. She opened it. Inside, the box was filled with red rose petals. Harley felt a confused smile creep across her face. Who was sending her this? Did she have an admirer? Unlikely, her love life was practically non-existent. She always seemed to attract such weirdos. Harley pulled the box onto her lap.

Underneath the rose petals was another smaller wrapped package. She picked it up, it was light and relatively soft. She carefully unwrapped this one, only to drop it immediately back into the box.

"Meat?" She said aloud. Who would send her a piece of raw meat? She lifted the wrapping, which had fallen onto the meat, to get a closer look. It wasn't chicken, or pork. Beef perhaps? She looked closer, and suddenly her eyes widened, and she felt her legs begin to shake.

It was a tongue.

A human tongue.

It had not been removed delicately. In fact, if Harley knew anything about human mutilation (which, thankfully, she didn't), she would have realised that this tongue had been ripped out by sheer force.

The phone rang, causing Harley to jump so dramatically that the box fell off her lap and onto the floor. The tongue rolled out and onto the carpet. Seeing it there, on the floor of her home, made her want to throw up.

The phone rang and rang, and finally Harley picked up.

"Harley?"

"Yeah…"

It was Sarah. "Are you ok?"

"What? Yeah." Harley couldn't seem to find the words to tell her. Not when she was starting to piece together where the tongue might've come from.

"Something's happened at Arkham."

"Tell me."

"It's Doctor Ross…There's been an incident."


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, thanks so much to everyone who followed and favourited the story, it was amazing to see so many people doing it! It's so motivating to think there might be people out there enjoying what I write, so a big thank you from me! Also thanks to Eness, Guest, and The Godess Of Eternal Spring, for their reviews of the last chapter. Hope you all enjoy this one :)**

* * *

Harley's heels clicked along the hard floors of the Arkham mansion. Warden Sharp had called a meeting to talk about the incident with Ross. Harley had barely slept the entire weekend, and spent most of it frantically scrubbing the blood stains from her floor. She had dropped the tongue into the garbage disposal: so desperate to get it out of the house that she hadn't even considered calling the cops or anyone at Arkham.

When she arrived at work that morning, she was a wreck. Her hair was a tangled mess on top of her head, her blouse wrinkled, and her stockings had snagged on her car keys and were now laddered in several places.

"You look…Are you ok?" Sarah asked tactfully when Harley arrived in the staff room at 9.00am.

Harley nodded. "I'm fine, just…just tired."

Sarah nodded towards the back of the room where Warden Quincy Sharp was getting to his feet.

"Thank you everyone for coming," Sharp began, looking around at the worried staff. _Correction,_ thought Harley, _half the staff look worried, half look bored: as if this isn't the first mutilation they've experienced._ She shuddered, maybe it wasn't?

"As I'm sure you are all aware, Doctor Ross was found on Friday night…" He paused, as if unsure how much he wanted to talk about. "He had been attacked, by persons unknown, and mutilated."

Murmurs among the crowd. Sharp continued. "Thankfully, Doctor Ross is alive, and with his family, and though we don't know yet who was responsible, let me assure each and every one of you that we at Arkham take your personal safety very seriously. More guards will be hired, and we will increase the number of patrols which take place. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this terrible incident quickly." He seemed to think this was enough, because he nodded at the crowd, before turning and leaving the room.

"That's it?" Harley asked Sarah. Her friend shrugged.

"It's what he always says." Aaron Cash appeared at Harley's other side.

"Always?" Harley couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Every time something like this happens," Cash explained. "Someone gets hurt, Sharp tries to convince everyone that they're safe, and pretty soon it's forgotten about."

Harley looked at Sarah for confirmation. Her friend nodded. "This isn't the first time a Doctor or guard has been hurt like this, though it's not happened for a while."

"And they really don't know who did it?" Harley asked, thinking sickeningly of the tongue rolling across her carpet.

Sarah and Cash shook their heads. "Jeremy didn't make his last appointment," Sarah said. "There's a two hour gap between when anyone last saw him, and when he was found."

"But it was a patient, right?" Harley pressed.

"Well we can't be certain of any-"

"Of course it was," Cash interrupted. "Only question is, who?"

Harley's heart began to race, thinking of Ross' angry confrontation with the Joker during their interview. "Where was the Joker?" She asked. "We'd interviewed him on Friday, or rather Joker had made a fool out of him again."

"Got an alibi," Sarah replied. "He was taken to his cell straight after your session and has been there ever since. One of the guards confirmed it, he was on duty in maximum security that night."

Cash snorted, "As if Frank Bowles could be trusted. He was probably drunk."

Sarah shrugged, "I know you don't like him, but Sharp trusts him, so we can't do much about it."

"Where did they find Doctor Ross?" Harley asked.

"In the water, by the Jetty," Cash began. "No idea how long he'd been in the water. Not like he could tell us, he'd had his tongue torn right out. Not cut, torn."

Harley nodded, she didn't need reminding of this. Cash continued. "Obviously he couldn't tell us who did it to him, but he hasn't written it down, or tried to communicate in any way. It's like he's too scared to talk."

Suddenly Harley felt sick, she needed to get out of there, now. "Sorry, I just realised, I have a patient," Harley burbled, turning on her heel and practically running for the door. She made it out into the corridor without attracting too much attention, and then ran full speed to her tiny office. Throwing herself inside, she slammed the door behind her and slid down onto the floor.

* * *

 _It had to be Joker._

 _Not necessarily._

 _Come on, of course it was him!_

 _You have no proof._

 _Ross got him mad with the polygraph thing, Ross was rude to him, and Joker wanted to punish him._

 _We're in an asylum full of patients, it could've been any one of them. Besides, Joker has an alibi._

 _But Cash said Bowles can't be trusted._

 _You still have no proof._

 _Then I'll find out._

That was the answer to Harley's internal conflict. She needed to find out for sure. But how? _  
I'll go to his cell._

Harley's idea was a risky one. The Joker was kept in maximum security, down a heavily guarded corridor, surrounded by the most dangerous, unstable patients. She would have to pass several checkpoints, and then be let into the ward by a guard. Harley was a Doctor, and she'd worked with Joker before, yet as she headed towards the first checkpoint into maximum security, she couldn't help but feel like she was breaking the rules.

Luckily for her, many of the Arkham guards were incompetent, easily distracted, or simply didn't care about their jobs that much. At the first checkpoint the guard simply glanced at her badge and buzzed her through. At the second she just had to walk through a weapon detector which, obviously, showed that she had no weapons. At the third and final checkpoint, at the entrance to maximum security, she met Frank Bowles. Though perhaps 'met' was the wrong word. He sat in the small booth watching a boxing match on a black and white television. Harley thought about trying to slip past without letting him notice, but she needed him to buzz her in, so she tapped on the glass. Frank glanced up, looked her up and down, and immediately got to his feet. He opened the window at the counter.

"Well hello there," he leered. "Have we met?"

Harley smiled her widest smile. "I don't believe so, I'm Doctor Quinzel, you must be Mr Bowles?"

"Please, call me Frank."

Harley smiled again, "Frank, you can call me Harleen if you like?"

"What can I do for you sweetheart?"

Harley tried not to grit her teeth. This man stank of alcohol and cigarettes, looked like he hadn't shaved for at least a week, and had something black stuck in between his two front teeth. He was the last person she wanted to call her 'sweetheart'. But again, she needed to get in. So once more she smiled, and said "I have a session with the Joker."

Bowles frowned a little. "I thought those were with Doctor Ross? And seeing as he's…well…we didn't think we needed to bring the clown up any more."

"That's alright," Harley soothed, acting as though it was a simple mistake. "I'm deciding whether or not to continue our sessions. If it's alright with you, I'll meet with the patient down here?"

Bowles appeared to be thinking. Harley wondered if it hurt. "I can't let you in his cell, he's not restrained, and he'd kill you as soon as look at you."

Harley wasn't sure she believed that, the Joker had never shown any interest in her whatsoever, but she looked suitably concerned. "I understand. Perhaps I could sit outside of the cell and talk to him?" She smiled one more time, despite the fact she was beginning to get sore cheeks, she never smiled this much, but it seemed to do the trick.

"Ok," Bowles said, glancing back at his boxing match. "Let's just go through the rules real quick. The crazies down here, they're the most dangerous in the place. Stay away from the glass and don't let any of them pass you anything through the hatch. Don't look at any of them except the one you're visiting, and don't talk to em'."

Harley nodded.

"There's a chair by Joker's cell, you can drag it in front for you to sit on, but again, don't touch the glass. Don't give him anything through the hatch, not so much as a paperclip. Got it?"

"Yes, I understand."

"There's cameras down there, if you need me just wave, or yell. We don't record sound, but I'll hear you yelling from here. The clown is the last cell on the left."

"Thank you."

Frank sighed, pressed down on a button by his hand. There was a buzzing sound from the door beside her, and she reached to open it. "Be careful," Bowles said. "Guy like that, he'll eat you up if you're not careful."

Harley nodded, then stepped through the door into the corridor.

* * *

It was dark, gloomy, and cold. The patients had no windows, and their cells were lit with a dull green light. The corridor was long, and lined with cells on either side. The front of each one was made of glass, though Harley knew it was much stronger than regular glass. She tried not to look in to the different cells she passed, but she couldn't help it. Most of the patients watched her silently, though a few yelled out inaudible nonsense, and one made a slitting throat motion.

"Good morning doctor." Harley paused at the voice to her left, this wasn't the right cell, and it wasn't the right voice. But it was the first pleasant thing she'd heard down here, and she couldn't help but glance into the cell.

Inside sat a young man. He had dark hair and eyes, and looked neat and presentable. His cell, like the others, was scarce: a bed, a toilet, a small desk and chair. He had a couple of books on the table. He seemed to be writing, but had paused to watch her. She glanced at the name on the wall by his door: 'Jonathan Crane'.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Crane asked.

Harley forgot herself momentarily, looking around her. "How can you tell? There are no windows down here."

Crane smiled. "It's always a lovely day when a beautiful woman comes down here. When I first saw you, I did wonder if you might be my new doctor?"

"I'm afraid not," Harley replied.

Crane's grin spread. "What an interesting choice of words Doctor, tell me, what are you truly afraid of?"

He got up, and began to move closer to the glass. Harley stepped back. "I have to go," she stuttered, and Crane began to laugh. She hurried away, away from his high pitched laughter and to the end of the corridor.

The cell on the right was empty. Harley stood in front of the one on the left which was, if anything, darker than the others. She could see someone standing in the back corner of the cell. It could only be Joker, but it was disconcerting not to see his face.

"Hello," Harley began.

"Doctor Quinzel," Joker's voice drawled, once again savouring the last word. "Pleasure to see you."

Harley found herself at a loss for words. She'd planned coming down here, planned how to convince Bowles, even planned what she'd say to the Warden if he found out. But she'd forgotten to think about what the hell to say right now, standing in front of the Joker.

Joker seemed to sense her unease. "Was there something you wanted? Or are you just here for the ambiance? I don't mind either way, you make a nice change of scenery."

Harley looked at the chair to her right. "May I sit?" She asked.

"Go ahead."

She dragged the chair over, thinking that at least if she was seated her shaking legs wouldn't give her away.

"I came here…I came here to ask…..To ask you about…" Harley trailed off. She had no idea where to begin. Joker's head tilted to one side, and though she couldn't see the details of his face, she got the feeling he was regarding her intently.

She took a breath. "I came here to ask you about the tongue."

"I'm flattered Doc, but you really should let me buy you dinner first." He stepped closer into the light. She could see him now. The dark green hair, cold grey eyes, marble skin. Sitting down, Harley felt so small, and Joker seemed so tall, so strong. She stood up, keen to be on an even playing field. His quick response to her question made her even more convinced he was responsible.

"Doctor Ross' tongue," She clarified.

Joker raised an eyebrow, "Ugh, I can't speak for your tastes, but you really shouldn't let him put that thing anywhere near you."

Harley sighed. "Please stop with the jokes."

Joker laughed out loud. "Didn't you get my file?!"

"No, I mean yes. I mean, just answer my question." Harley was beginning to feel flustered, he was making a fool of her now, just like he did with Ross. She thought she preferred him when he didn't talk to her.

"You haven't asked me one." Joker moved even closer, only a foot from the glass.

Harley sat down again, not comfortable being face to face. "Doctor Ross has been mutilated. He had his tongue ripped out." She paused, before continuing. "I was sent a tongue. I need to know if that was you."

Joker considered her for a moment. "The Warden asked me about the good doctor. I was in my cell. Frankie can confirm it."

"You being in your cell doesn't mean you weren't involved," Harley pressed. "And besides Frank Bowles-" She stopped herself before saying anything unprofessional about the validity of Bowles' statement.

Joker grinned. "Not a fan of Frankie are we? I don't blame you, the man is repulsive. Still, he has some uses."

Harley raised an eyebrow, if that wasn't an admission that the alibi was faked, she didn't know what was. But what good was it? She had no proof, and it's not like the Joker or Bowles were ever going to admit it to anyone else.

"Ok, why?" She asked. Joker raised an eyebrow, and she added. "Why did you do it?"

"Fond of the Doctor, were you?" Joker asked.

"Will you answer my question?"

Joker smiled again, bending down so they were face to face. "A question for a question, an answer for an answer. If you are honest then I will be." His smile disappeared. "Remember, if you lie, I'll know."

Harley took a breath. "Ok. Ask."

"Were you fond of Doctor Ross?"

"No."

"Why?"

Harley shook her head. "That's not the game, it's my turn to ask."

A smile flickered across Joker's face. He stepped back, holding out his hands. "I'm all ears."

"Are you responsible for what happened to him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Joker shook his head. "Uh uh doc, my turn. Why didn't you like Ross?"

Harley shrugged. "You know why, you must do."

"I want to hear it."

"Because…because…he was rude, and cruel, and he used people, and he was creepy."

"In the madhouse, the doctor is the creepy one." Joker chuckled. "Interesting."

"My turn," said Harley, finding it hard not to get a buzz out of such a fast paced dialogue with the clown. "Why did you do it?"

"You just told me why." Joker replied. "All those reasons you just said, and one more."

"What was it?" But she knew he wouldn't answer. It was his turn.

"What did you do with the tongue?" He asked, those cold eyes staring her down. She looked away first.

"I threw it away. It was stupid. I should've called the cops, or at least this place."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because…I don't know. I thought it might make me look guilty."

"Do you feel guilty?"

"Yes." Harley admitted to herself for the first time. "But I don't know why. It's not my fault." Harley narrowed her gaze. "That was three questions. Now tell me the other reason you did it."

Joker paused the longest time before answering, and she wondered if he would ever speak at all. Finally he said: "I didn't like the way he spoke to you. He had no right." He grinned, getting closer again. Whispering now, but slowly getting louder. "That's why you should feel guilty. If it wasn't for you, he'd still have his tongue! I did it for you baby!" He yelled the last few words, then rolled back his head, laughing raucously. Harley got up, knocking the chair over in her haste, and fled maximum security: Joker's laugh ringing in her ears as she ran.


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favourited, or reviewed this story! Getting those notifications makes my day, and encourages me to get on and write more, so thanks for that! Particularly want to thank Eness, littlesmith, LadyNorth76, Rivera, SunshineTheDinosaur, and the three guests for their kind reviews!**

 **A little less Joker/Harley this time, because I'm building up to some big moments, but hope you like the chapter nonetheless.**

 **Also, thought i'd say now, this relationship is based quite heavily from what we've seen from Suicide Squad...meaning it's a slightly 'fluffier' version of Joker/Harley. No, their relationship is never going to be normal, but it won't be quite as emotionally and physically abusive as fans of the comics will be used to, just because i've always liked the idea of a relationship with Joker being the most powerful still, yet one where he perhaps does genuinely care for Harley, as opposed to her being just a tool for him to use. If you're looking for a torture/hurt story, where Harley is abused, this won't be the story for you!**

* * *

Harley spent the night tossing and turning, Joker's words still fresh in her mind.

 _If it wasn't for you, he'd still have his tongue!_

 _I did it for you baby!_

It was 4:00AM when she finally gave up on trying to sleep at all, and got out of bed. Harley paced across the floor of her living room, desperately trying to decide what the hell she was supposed to do now. Should she tell someone? Would that get her into more trouble? Should she just forget it ever happened? Didn't that go against everything she signed up for when she became a doctor?

She stood in front of her living room window, watching the rain fall over a dark Gotham. Her apartment was on the top floor, and from up here she could see the tiny cars down below, their lights oddly soothing when blurred by the rain on the glass. Harley rested her head against the glass, wondering how she had managed to find herself in such a mess. Why did disaster seem to follow her around like a bad smell?

 _I wish mom were here. She'd know what to do._

* * *

Harley still hadn't made up her mind when she arrived at Arkham the next morning, looking, once again, like hell. She had at least managed not to rip her stockings this morning, but it didn't make her feel any less like a complete wreck. She sat at her desk with a sigh, and opened her electronic schedule. Harley was supposed to be seeing two patients this morning, but those had been wiped out of the planner, with he words "Meeting with Warden Sharp" replacing them. Harley's stomach dropped, what did he want?

Harley arrived at the warden's office late, sweaty, and feeling like she was going to throw up. She knocked anxiously on the door, doing it quickly before she changed her mind and ran back to her tiny office.

"Come in," came the warden's voice from inside. Harley took a breath, and opened the door.

The Warden's office was certainly not tiny. It was huge. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined most of the walls, only leaving space for a few ornately framed paintings. There were several display cases too, containing items belonging to some of Arkham's most infamous patients: Harley could see the wooden puppet, Scarface (which belonged to The Ventriloquist), in one, and Black Mask's mask in another.

The warden himself was sitting behind a huge mahogany desk, looking over some paperwork. He looked up as Harley entered and smiled pleasantly.

"Doctor Quinzel, how are you?" He asked.

"Fine thank you," Harley stuttered, feeling like a kid called to the principal's office. _He knows I went to see Joker,_ she thought, heart racing. _He knows, and maybe he even heard what Joker said, about it being my fault. Fuck!_

"Please, take a seat." The warden continued, gesturing to the comfortable looking chair in front of the desk.

 _He's gonna fire me. Has he already called the cops? Could I go to jail? Does it count as helping a criminal if I didn't realise? I wonder if this is real mahogany…_

Harley scolded herself for having a mind like a pinball machine. She looked up at the warden. If he knew anything, he certainly didn't seem angry about it. He looked his usual self: brisk, overworked, but generally friendly.

"Doctor Quinzel, I know things have been a little…stressful, around here following Doctor Ross' accident. I gather the two of you were close?"

Harley had to work hard not to screw up her nose in disgust. "Close? What do you mean? What did he say?" She asked, as politely as she could muster.

"Well, your work on the Joker case?" The warden continued, sounding a little confused as to why she suddenly seemed so defensive. "I gather you were making significant headway?"

Now it was Harley's turn to be confused. "Uh, actually sir, no."

To her surprise, Warden Sharp smiled again. "I suspected as much. Doctor Ross was always one for massaging the facts. So tell me, what did you learn?"

Harley allowed herself to relax, just a little. It seemed the warden knew nothing about her little trip to max, or anything at all about her interactions with the Joker.

"Well," she began. "To be honest sir, it was a waste of time. Joker strung Doctor Ross along, but gave us nothing at all. I doubt very much that that man has any interest in any kind of therapy."

Sharp paused for a moment, his eyes resting to the documents on his desk. "I would've agreed with you whole-heartedly Doctor, had it not been for this." He slid the paper across the table, and Harley scanned it quickly. Then she had to stop and read it twice.

"Joker wants me to be his primary?" She couldn't keep the shock out of her voice.

"Correct." The warden didn't take his eyes off Harley, and she knew he was trying to gage her reactions. How could she react? Joker was asking for her to be his primary doctor? To be the one who dealt with therapy, treatment plans, his wellbeing in the asylum? Why would he do that? Did he think she was easily manipulated? That she'd be his best bet at escaping again?

"I can see you're shocked." Sharp's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"That's an understatement," she muttered. "I just don't understand why he would want me?"

"Perhaps he felt you would bring a level of patience and understanding that Doctor Ross…well, you know how he was." The warden looked a little guilty for saying it, but Harley immediately liked him more.

"And he's willing to begin therapy?" Harley asked, looking at the notes again.

"Of sorts. He states that he wants to talk, says he wants someone to listen to him, and that if you feel you can offer him treatment that could work, he'll trust you." The warden rested his elbows on the table. "Harleen…may I call you Harleen?"

Harley nodded.

"Harleen, this is the most cooperation we have ever experienced from this patient. Now if I thought he had an ulterior motive, I'd deny his request immediately: he's not the kind of patient who should get what he wants…But I can't see what he has to gain from this other than beginning his road to rehabilitation. I'm not saying that's possible. In fact, he's one of the few patients in here that I truly believe is incapable of being cured. But it doesn't mean we can't try."

"I understand," Harley replied. What could she say to that? As a doctor, how could she deny the wishes of one of the most troubled patients she had ever encountered?

"All safety precautions will be adhered to. Joker will be restrained during all of your sessions, and if you ever feel in danger, or in any way uncomfortable, the session will be ended. There is a panic button under the table, and guards will be posted outside the doors."

Harley nodded. "When do I begin?" She asked.

"No time like the present," smiled the warden. "I've taken the liberty of passing over a few of your patients to the other doctors. I imagine your new role will take up a great deal of your time. You'll still have a few others, we don't have the luxury of one doctor per patient, but Joker will be your main priority from here on out. Any questions?"

Harley shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Very good," the warden nodded. He picked up a pen and began writing. Harley took that as her cue to leave. She got to her feet and headed for the door, then she stopped.

"Actually sir, there is just one thing. Something you said a minute ago…"

The warden looked up expectantly.

"You said Joker is one of the few patients incapable of being cured. Why do you think that?"

The warden didn't even pause. "Because he enjoys it too much."

He returned to the papers on his desk, leaving Harley to see herself out, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into this time.

* * *

Harley arranged for Joker to be brought to a therapy room. She didn't want to use the same one as before, and had hoped that she might get one with some natural light. Unfortunately, she was out of luck. Same small window, same greenish light, same claustrophobic feeling. She actually arrived a little late, needing a quick pit-stop to throw up on the way. She didn't think she had ever felt this nervous in her life. It was different before, she had been with Doctor Ross, he was a real doctor!

"YOU are a real Doctor," she muttered to herself in the bathroom mirror, trying to convince herself that she even half believed it.

She arrived outside the interview room to find Frank Bowles, and another guard. Both looked her up and down hungrily. They clearly didn't believe her either.

"Clown's inside," Bowles said to Harley's chest.

"Thanks," she muttered, holding her notes against herself.

"We'll be out here if you need us," the other guard grunted, nodding to a table and chair outside the room. Harley nodded. As she reached for the door, she watched the guards sit down. Bowles got out a pack of cards.

 _Now I feel real safe,_ she thought bitterly. Pushing the door open angrily.

She forgot Joker was already inside.

His eyes were on her the second she walked through the door.

"Doctor Quinzel." There it was, that voice that made her nervous (and strangely excited, not that she would admit that to herself) and forget everything she planned to say. As usual, he elongated the last word as though it were a delicious candy.

"Good morning." Harley sat at the seat opposite him, only the table now between them.

"I'd say it's afternoon by now. You're three minutes late." Joker nodded to the clock behind her. He couldn't point, he was in his straight jacket.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Harley muttered, already on the back foot. _Don't apologise to him!_ She scolded herself. _You're the doctor, you're leading this session, not him!_

"It's alright," Joker drawled in his metallic voice. "I don't mind a girl keeping me waiting, not if she's getting dolled up for me." He grinned.

"I hate to disappoint you, but I simply had to go to the bathroom."

Joker raised an eyebrow, and leaned in closer to the table. "Nervous, were we?" He licked his lips.

Harley's face felt hot. "If it's alright with you, I'll ask the questions today."

Joker sat back in his chair. "You're the doctor." But his grin suggested he felt otherwise.

Harley cocked her head to the side, and immediately blurted out the question she had promised herself she wouldn't ask.

"Why did you request me?"

Joker didn't seem surprised by the question. "Why do you think?"

Harley sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. There are great doctors here, or you could request one from anywhere. God knows there must be thousands chomping at the bit to come and work with you. Why would you choose me?"

"I like you."

The response caught her completely off guard, and Harley had to pause to check her mouth wasn't hanging open. "You…like me?"

"Yes."

"You don't know me."

"I want to." His cold eyes seemed to blaze right then, and Harley couldn't fight the feeling that he wanted more than just to know her favourite colour. Joker continued. "You won't lie to me."

Harley tried to sound professional. "Can I trust that you will extend the same courtesy?"

Joker grinned again. "I suppose you'll have to take a chance."

She was feeling a little more confident now. This didn't feel like therapy, this felt almost like flirting, and she was ok at that. If it worked, surely it wasn't inappropriate?

"I don't like having my time wasted. I'm not gonna sit here while you spend hours pretending The Lion King is the story of your life."

The Joker cackled. "That would've been a good one. Do you think he would've fallen for it?"

"What I'm saying…," Harley continued. "…is that I won't put up with that. You don't have to spill your guts to me," _wrong expression._ "Not if you're not comfortable. But don't treat me like I'm an idiot."

Joker stopped smiling, his expression deadpan. "I would never do that."

"Ok," Harley nodded. "Where do you want to start?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A short chapter today, but lots of conversation, so I wanted to make sure it didn't feel too samey! Really hope you like the dialogue, I tried to take a bit of time over the interaction here, and I had a really clear picture in my mind of how their conversations would go, so hopefully that comes across!**

 **Thanks so much to SunshineTheDinosaur and aliissaa14 for their lovely reviews of the last chapter, and for everyone who read, followed, or favourited the story. It really inspires me to write when I know people are waiting, which is why the next chapter came so quick!**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

Harley bit her lip.

"Ok," she began, adjusting her glasses and looking purposefully at her notes. Not that there was actually anything of use written down. She'd hardly had the time to even think about this interview before she'd been thrown into the situation, let alone make notes. But Joker was staring her down, watching her curiously, and she couldn't appear not to know what she was doing. So she glanced at the blank pages once again, then looked up with a smile. _Let's just wing it._

"Where would you like to begin?" She asked.

"Wherever you like baby."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "It's Doctor Quinzel, please. And if you have a name you'd rather I call you, then you're welcome to share it."

She knew it wouldn't work, but it was worth a try. Joker just grinned. "I can think of a few things I'd like you to call me, but Joker is fine."

"Very well," Harley replied. "If you'd like, we could start at the beginning, with your childhood-."

Joker shook his head, stopping Harley in her tracks.

"You know, Doc, I was thinking. As much as I enjoyed our little game last time, I realised my answers are worth more than yours. If you want to play, the rules are gonna change."

"Change how?" Harley asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Today you tell me about you. Anything I want to know."

"And what do I get?"

Joker grinned again. "What do you want baby?"

"Doctor Quinzel," Harley repeated. "And what I want is to begin your treatment, which depends on you opening up to me."

"Surely you understand that I need to trust you first? Come on Doctor, play along. Answer my questions and I'll answer _one_ of yours. And I won't lie."

Harley bit her lip again. This might be the best she would get. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to play along with his game?

"Ok Joker," Harley began tentatively. "Ask your questions."

Joker's grin widened. He leaned in closer to the table, his arms still restrained by the straight jacket. This close, his face looked almost beautiful. His eyes were the greyest grey, piercing and hypnotic. His cheekbones were perfectly sculpted, and his lips full. She wondered what he looked like before he became the Joker, back when his skin looked as though it had seen daylight. Was his hair brown? Perhaps blonde? What made him get the word 'damaged' tattooed on his forehead?

Of course, she could ask none of these questions. It was Joker's game. He began. "Full name?"

"Harleen Frances Quinzel."

"Where did you grow up?"

"I was born in Star City, but I don't remember much of it. We moved to Gotham when I was a kid."

"We?"

"My mom and I."

Joker cocked his head. "What about your father?"

Harley shrugged. "I don't know much about him. He left just after I was born."

"And how does that make you feel?" Joker was playing the psychiatrist now, but Harley didn't mind that question. She didn't give two fucks about her father.

"I don't care. I spent my whole life without a dad. It's not something I regret, and I can't miss someone I don't know."

Joker paused for a moment, then continued. "Are you close with your mother?"

"I was." Harley looked down at the table, she would not allow the Joker to see how close she was to crying. "She died six months ago." She looked up. "If it's alright with you, I'd rather not talk about that. Not right now. Please."

Joker regarded her for a moment.

"You've told me the truth, so far."

 _How does he know? Can he spot a liar? Or does he have information on me like he did on Ross?_ Harley wasn't sure which answer was creepier. But she couldn't stop, he seemed to be enjoying himself, and if it got her closer to answers, she had to continue.

"What else?" She asked.

"What makes you happy?"

That one surprised her. She had to think. "My friends. My friends make me happy. And my apartment makes me happy. It's small, and not on the good side of town, but it's mine, and I like being there." She thought for a moment. "I like sports. I used to do a lot when I was a kid."

"Running?" Joker guessed.

"A little, but mostly gymnastics. I won awards, tons actually." She looked down, not used to talking about herself with such pride. "But I don't do much now."

Joker grinned. "I'd love to see your moves."

"I doubt I could pull them off in this skirt," Harley deflected.

"Then take it off."

Harley was taken aback once again, and tried not to blush. "My job makes me happy," she continued, moving the conversation on.

"What about talking to me, does that make you happy?" His face was serious, he was really asking.

"I don't know yet," Harley admitted honestly. "I have enjoyed our conversations so far, despite this one being rather one sided, but I don't know if I would say I'm 'happy' when we're together."

"What _do_ you feel?" Joker pressed.

"I don't know."

A smile flickered across his face, and she wondered if that's because he knew she was telling the truth. Or maybe he knew something she didn't. She wondered if she could chance asking a question. "Does talking to me make you happy?"

"Of course," he replied without pause. "What scares you?"

"You do."

Joker seemed unsurprised. "What else?"

"Failure. My friends getting hurt. Being alone."

"Why do you fear being alone Doctor?"

She had said too much. She had been so comfortable being honest that she had told a dangerous criminal far too much about herself. Ok, it wasn't like it was her credit card number or home address (though he knew that one already, he'd sent her a tongue after all), but it was personal information she would rather he didn't know. But it was not like she could take it back now, so she had to keep going.

"I like being alone most of the time. I don't mind my own company, and to be honest, big groups of people irritate me. But sometimes I'm scared that I'll always be alone."

"No boyfriend?" He asked. He leaned in closer again now, and she could see he was lapping up all this information. She just hoped it would be worth it. She shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"I'm really busy with work."

Joker scowled, sitting back a little. "I think that's a lie. Don't lie to me Doctor."

Harley flushed, her heart racing. "It's not a lie!...But it's not the only reason." When Joker said nothing she continued. "I only seem to attract creeps. Guys who treat me badly. So badly I feel like I lose part of myself every time I'm with them. I get scared sometimes I'll have nothing left. Like... I'll just become the person they want me to be. Not the person I am."

Silence, for what felt like the longest time. Harley couldn't believe she had just spilled her guts to one of the most dangerous criminals Gotham had ever known. Why did she find him so terrifying, yet so easy to talk to at the same time?

Finally, Joker spoke. "And who are you?"

Harley was confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're frightened that you'll stop being the person you are. What is that person like?"

Harley couldn't answer. "I…I don't know. I'm not sure I know yet who I'm meant to be. I guess I'm just just afraid I'll never get the chance to find out."

Joker sat back against his chair. "Thank you Doctor Quinzel."

Harley decided to take a chance. "Do I get to ask you a question now?"

Joker grinned. "I suppose one won't hurt. But make it a good one, I get so bored of the same old questions. Every doctor asks the same as the last. Can you be original?"

Harley thought for a moment. The stuff she really wanted to know, like his name, his story, where what he meant by boring questions. She wondered how many times he had been asked and how many lies he had told. She didn't want him to lie to her, but she doubted very much he was going to tell her the truth about himself after just one session.

So what could she ask? Something interesting, something new.

"What's your favourite joke?"

Joker grinned. "Now we're talking." He thought for a moment. "So there are these two guys in a lunatic asylum. And one night they decide they don't like living in an asylum anymore. They decide they're going to escape! So they get up onto the roof, and there, stretching across the narrow gap, they see the rooftops of the town, stretching away in the moonlight. Stretching away into freedom!" Joker leaned in closer. "So the first guy, he jumps right across with no problem. But his friend, his friend daren't make the leap y'see. He's afraid of falling. So the the first guy has an idea. He says: 'Hey, I've got my flashlight on me! I'll shine it across the gap between the buildings and you can walk across the beam of light and join me!'" Joker's grin widens. "But the other guy just shakes his head. He says: 'What do you think I am, crazy? You'd turn it off when I was halfway across!'" Joker erupted into hysterical laughter, and Harley couldn't fight back the smile threatening to streak across her face. It was contagious, his laughter. At least when it didn't follow something horrific.

Joker stopped laughing. "I've been waiting for that smile all day."

* * *

Harley left the interview room feeling like she was walking on air. She didn't know why, not really. It's not like she'd learned anything new. On the contrary, she'd told a dangerous criminal far too much about herself. Yet she somehow felt amazing. The only thing she could liken it to was the feeling at the end of an incredible date (not that she'd had many of those), but that was a ridiculous comparison, because it couldn't be further from the interaction they had just experienced.

Plus that would be wildly inappropriate.

Still, she couldn't wait for their next session tomorrow.

Harley just had a little paperwork to finish, and headed for her office. On the way she ran into Sarah, who was leaving another interview room. "Hey," Harley grinned. Sarah didn't return the smile. She looked tired and stressed.

"You ok?" Harley asked, following Sarah towards her office.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just exhausted."

"You look it. No offence," Harley quickly added.

Sarah didn't seem to notice. "I just had another session with Zsasz. I feel like I'm going around in circles. He's making no progress in his treatment, and his remarks towards me are becoming more violent and disturbing."

Sarah stopped walking. Harley had never seen her looking so stressed. Sarah was usually able to shrug off anything that came her way. For her to be like this… Working with Zsasz must be awful. Harley couldn't help but feel a faint flicker of pride that Joker had never made threats about hurting her, and then felt incredibly guilty for feeling so smug. No two patients were the same, and besides, just because Joker had never said it, didn't mean he wouldn't do it given half the chance.

"Maybe you should take a couple of days off?" Harley suggested, resting her hand on Sarah's arm. "Some time away from Zsa…Some time away from this place might make you feel better."

Sarah nodded gently. "Yes, maybe I should." She looked at the stacks of papers in her arms. "I should get these filed. I'll talk to you later." She carried on towards her office, leaving Harley in the cold hallway. She couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks so much to SlytherinofGreenWellSprings, SunshinetheDinosaur, and Shyskyme for their reviews of the last chapter, and for everyone who favorited and followed the story. Hope you like this one :)**

* * *

Harley arrived at work that morning feeling more positive than she had in a long time. The tongue in a box had been long forgotten, and all she could feel was excitement about her next session with Joker. Would he let her ask any actual questions this time? Would his 'game' change? The anticipation was killing her, and she actually arrived at work early for the first time since she started, deciding to try and write some notes in her office before the interview began. It couldn't hurt to be a little better prepared this time, right?

Harley was on her way to her office, when she heard her name. She paused, where had it come from? The door to her left, the one leading to the employee lounge, was ajar. Had it come from in there? She didn't want to eavesdrop, but she was sure she'd heard her name. Shamefully, Harley moved closer to the door, trying to hear the conversation inside. It seemed to be between two men. She thought she recognised one of the voices as a Doctor, Doctor Ford was it? The other voice was one she didn't know, so it must've been a guard.

"No, she's not dealing with him any more, she's Joker's primary now." Doctor Ford said.

"She is? Well shit!" The guard replied, sounding shocked. "She's braver than she looks, I thought she'd be out of this place in a month. Got that whole deer in the headlights feel about her."

"I know what you mean, from what I hear, she only just made the grade."

"Really? To be chosen as the clown's primary, you'd think she must really know her stuff?"

"I don't know. Working with him's like a punishment: no Doctor worth their title has ever got anything concrete out of him. Maybe they're just giving her the lost causes. Plus she's got a pretty face, you know Sharp's a sucker for that."

The guard chuckled. "You think that's why Joker chose her? When do you think was the last time he got any tail?"

"That guy? He's a freak, probably never even touched a woman."

"He must be a fuckin' tripod being up close with Quinzel every day. I know I would be!"

Both men laughed raucously. Harley couldn't bare to listen anymore. She stomped to her office and slammed the door behind her.

She didn't know what she was more mad about. Being spoken about as if she was a thing, or the way the two guards had insulted Joker. She knew she shouldn't care about that, it's not like he was her friend…

 _No, but he's my patient, and I have a professional interest in him. They don't know his case, they have no right. He's a good looking man, I bet he's been with plenty…And that's not the point, I'm not even mad about it, I'm just angry they were talking about me like that._

However, Harley couldn't clear the thoughts from her mind, and they were still buzzing around as she sat down at the table opposite Joker and hour later. There was a heavy storm forecast, and the heavy rain hammering down on the small window was the only sound in the room as Harley once again looked at a blank page of notes. She couldn't focus today, couldn't wing it like she did last time.

Joker was staring at her with a curious look on his face. "Very quiet today, Doctor Quinzel. Anything you'd like to talk about?"

Harley shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you. We should probably talk about you."

Joker rolled his eyes. "Me again? I'm flattered. But I'd like to learn more about you."

"You did me last time," Harley muttered.

"I should be so lucky," Joker grinned. Harley wanted to smile, but then her mind flickered back to the doctor and the guard, and what they had said. Was that all she was to Joker? A woman to amuse and excite him?

"Don't say things like that," she snapped. Joker looked momentarily confused, but before he could reply, Bowles and another guard came into the room. Harley stood up, "Mr Bowles, we're in the middle of a confidential therapy sess-"

"Sorry Doc," Bowles interrupted. "Warden's orders: all treatments cancelled today. This storm is getting worse, and all patients are going into lockdown." He grabbed Joker's straight jacket and roughly pulled him to his feet. "Come on handsome," he muttered. Joker said nothing, still regarding Harley intensely with his cold eyes. Harley broke his gaze, looking at her feet. She was embarrassed about how she had snapped at him, yet she still couldn't stop thinking about what those men had said.

* * *

Joker was wheeled away, and Harley headed back to her office. On the way she ran into he Warden. "Doctor Quinzel!" He sounded relieved to see her.

"Yes sir, is there something wrong?"

"This storm is getting worse by the minute, and almost half my staff have failed to come into work. I was wondering if you could oversea the lockdown of maximum security?"

"Me?" Harley was surprised, what, if anything, could she bring to the table here?

"It's just standard procedure to have a doctor present when we lockdown in case of an emergency," Sharp hurriedly explained, already walking her towards the doors. "There will be guards with you at all times. We don't foresee any problems. Thank you." And with that she was out of the doors of the mansion and standing in the pouring rain. Harley scowled at the closed doors. "My pleasure sir!" She groaned, her voice drowned out by the rumble of thunder. She looked at the penitentiary building, right across the grounds, braced herself, and ran as quickly as she could.

* * *

Harley arrived only moments later, but already soaked to the skin. Her heels were covered in mud, which had also spattered up her legs and onto her black pencil skirt. Her hair had escaped it's bun, and hung in wet tendrils down her back. She was sure her makeup would be smeared all over her face, but at that moment all she cared about was getting out of the rain.

She hurried along the corridor, quickly plaiting her hair and attempting to pat her face dry. She got through the first two checkpoints, and arrived at the final one leading into maximum security. Frank Bowles and another two male guards were standing by the doors.

"Doctor Quinzel?" Bowels sounded confused.

"The warden sent me," Harley explained. "Said you needed a doctor for lockdown?"

Bowles looked her up and down, as if he was still unsure whether or not she was a doctor. "Shall we get on?" Harley pressed, uncomfortably aware that her wet blouse was sticking to her skin.

"If you say so," Bowles sighed. He reached behind him, picking up a small handgun. He held it out to Harley. "Here."

Harley held her hands up. "Why would I need that?"

Bowles looked confused, "Hasn't Sharp explained the risks here?" When Harley shook her head he sighed. "We gotta lockdown max, that means going in and manually locking all the doors. Usually we rely on electrical locking systems, but if the storm cuts the power all the crazies get free. Trouble is, if the power's cut before we lock all the doors, and we're still down there…Let's just say we all need to be armed."

Harley swallowed, still not taking the weapon. "I've never fired a gun in my life."

"It's easy," Bowles shrugged. "Just point and shoot." He pressed the gun into her hand. "Just stay close to us. Sharp'll expect you to give each prisoner a quick once over, just check em' out through the glass while we lock the doors, make sure they're not likely to die unexpectedly before lockdown ends."

Harley nodded. Bowles unlocked the door to maximum security, and Harley followed the three men into the dingy corridor, holding the gun uncomfortably at her side.

* * *

Lockdown took longer than expected. The electronic locks were simple and efficient. To lock the doors manually involved three different keys in five different locks for each door. It didn't help that the guards had one set of keys between them, on a keychain containing at least twelve others. It took forever. Harley finished her first two patient assessments before the guards had even finished locking the cells, so she continued on down the hallway alone, eager to be done and out of there.

The next cell she reached belonged to Victor Zsasz, the patient Sarah had been treating. He had his back to her, and was muttering to himself in the corner. He wore his orange maximum security patient pants, but no shirt, and Harley could see the countless scars over his body: one for each person he'd killed.

"Hello Victor," Harley began. No response. "How are you feeling today?"

Still no response, but his muttering was getting louder. Harley stepped closer to the glass, trying to decipher the words.  
"Sarah Cassidy Sarah Cassidy SarahCassidySarahCassidySarahCassidy-"

His speech became faster and faster, the words blending together. But she knew what he was saying now. "Doctor Cassidy isn't here right now," Harley said sternly. "I'm just checking in before the lockdown."

"They took her away from me."

"Doctor Cassidy didn't belong to you," Harley continued, noticing the hint of anger in her own voice. "And she hasn't been taken away, she simply has a few days off. I'm sure she will resume your treatment when she returns."

"She can't leave. I didn't get to transform her. Not yet. But I will. SarahCassidySarahCassi-"

Harley stepped back from the glass, shivering. No wonder Sarah was so afraid. Harley had spent less than two minutes with this man and already she wanted to escape.

 _He's fine. I don't need to talk to him anymore,_ she told herself. Continuing on down the hall. Joker was at the end, but she had a few more cells to go before she reached him. She was strangely looking forward to seeing him. After all, their session had been cut short, and he was far more enjoyable to talk to than the other patients down here.

She checked a few more patients, none of whom would speak to her coherently, but were well enough for her to feel comfortable moving on. The next cell of note belonged to  
Jonathan Crane, or Scarecrow as she had come to discover he was also called. She knew the name, he had attempted to release a fear gas in Gotham City, and was only foiled at the last moment by the Batman.

"Mr Crane," Harley began when she'd reached his cell. He was sitting at his desk once again. He looked up at her, an expression of mild irritation on his face. "Doctor Crane."

"I apologise, my mistake. I'm just checking in on you before the lockdown. Are you alright?"

But Crane's answer was interrupted by a crack of thunder, and all the lights turning off at once. Harley might've screamed, or it might've been someone in a cell behind her, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that it was pitch black. Then there was the sound of bolts sliding across metal, and Harley knew the electronic locks had opened. She heard the sound of cell doors opening all around her, rusted metal scraping across the concrete floor. Suddenly the hall was lit with a dim red glow as the emergency lights came on, and Harley could see that Crane was no longer in his cell.

"Perhaps, Doctor Quinzel, you should be asking yourself that question?" The voice came from behind her. Harley spun around. Crane was grinning widely, stepping slowly towards her. "Don't be frightened Doctor. Not yet, anyway."

Gunfire and noise from down the hall. Harley looked over, and could see Bowles and the other two guards fighting to hold back some of the patients who had crowded around them. One of the guards had fired his gun into the air, and the three of them were backing up towards the doors, the prisoners moving closer too.

Harley wanted to cry out, to tell them she was still down here. But she was too afraid she might draw the other patients closer. How did she end up so far away? Then Bowles caught her eye, just as he and the other guards reached the door. Harley felt relief rush over her.

Until he did nothing.

The guards stepped through the door, hastily slamming it behind them. Several of the patients threw themselves against the doors, trying to get out. But now the others had noticed her, and she was trapped, alone, with the most dangerous patients in the whole facility.

"Now, my dear," came Crane's silky voice. "Now, is the time to feel afraid."

Harley turned, ready to run in the opposite direction, when she found herself face to face with Zzasz. He was grinning. "I'm going to peel your flesh from your bones," he whispered.

Harley's mouth was dry. Her heart was in her throat. What the Hell was she going to do?

Then it came to her, the gun!

Harley held up the weapon. "Don't come any closer!" She stammered, trying to sound like she wasn't afraid. She wasn't fooling anyone, and now more and more prisoners were approaching.

"I mean it!" Harley backed away, the gun shaking in her hands.

Zsasz was smiling, right at the front of the crowd. Crane stood back, just watching. Actually it looked like he was taking notes. A prisoner to her left was salivating heavily, watching her with bared teeth.

Harley stumbled back, trying to keep her eyes on all of them.

That's when she felt someone behind her. She spun around, raising the gun. She had walked right into Joker! There was a moment of relief, after all, she had spent hours in a room with this man. He was familiar to her, safe even?

But something was different. Without his straight jacket, without being sat down, without being strapped into a chair, he wasn't the same. Joker was tall, strong, and stared at her without even a trace of his usual grin. His eyes flicked from her, to the crowd of patients. Harley looked back at them. They were close, but had all stopped, and were watching Joker with seemingly the same apprehension she herself regarded him with.

Only Zsasz stepped forward. "Let me cut her, oh let me bite her. I need to taste her flesh."

Joker regarded her for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. As if he was contemplating this request. Harley pleaded with her eyes, begging him silently not to hand her over, even though she wasn't sure the alternative would be any safer. Finally he grabbed Harley roughly by the arm. "No." He said firmly. "This one's mine."

He pulled Harley away from the crowd, tossing her into his cell. She fell onto the cold floor, and crawled to the furthest corner from the door. She still had her gun, and she pointed it at the Joker as she sat with her back to the wall. He stood in the open doorway, watching her hungrily, then pulled it shut behind him.

None of the other patients tried to get in, despite Zsasz's howls of disappointment. It was just Joker and Harley in the small cell. Joker slid down, his back against the door.

He was grinning now.

"So, Doc, what do you want to talk about today?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks for all the follows and favourites. Also a big thanks to Mtjm9, eness, SlytherinofGreenWellSprings, SunshinetheDinosaur, Panchimon, Shyskyme, and BelieverofManyThings for their lovely reviews of the last chapter.**

 **As you can probably see, this romance is building gradually. I've got quite a few ideas of things that can happen before Harley and Joker are finally together, but if anyone has any ideas of scenes they'd like to see either before or after their relationship starts, please feel free to leave these in the reviews or message me. I love to be inspired by others!**

 **Thanks, and I hope you like this one! I know the chapters are a bit shorter than some other writers, but I'm always worried about the story 'dragging', and it at least means I can post more often :)**

* * *

Joker's cell was dark, despite the red emergency light in the corridor, shining through the one glass wall at the front of his cell. Harley could only just see him sitting there with his back against the door. She held the gun firmly in her hands, pointing it in his direction. It was heavier than she expected from something so small. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. Despite the rumble of the patients outside trashing each other's cells and trying to get out of max, in here it was relatively quiet. Harley could barely hear the storm down here, though she could hear water dripping from somewhere. How long would she be stuck down here? Harley sighed, and took a moment to glance around the room. A single bed, with a thin sheet, a toilet with no lid, a desk with no chair. No pictures. No windows. No plants.

"Do you like my humble abode, Doctor Quinzel?" Joker asked. There was something about the way he said her name: it was like he enjoyed saying it, like he thought she was important. She couldn't help but get a little kick out of it.

But now he was asking what she thought of his cell, and Harley wasn't sure how to respond. "It's…"

"Might be better not to answer Doc," Joker grinned. "I'd hate for you to start lying to me now." He got to his feet, and Harley held the gun more tightly. He continued talking in his gravelly drawl. "What I _would_ like, is for you to put the gun down."

Harley shook her head. "I…I can't."

Joker came closer, leaning down to look at her. She raised the gun higher. "Please, don't…"

Joker sighed, and stepped backwards, holding his hands up, and then bowing slightly. "Whatever you say, Doctor." His emphasis on that last word was different to how it usually sounded, almost disdainful, and Harley was surprised to feel a little hurt to have earned that tone. Joker took his place again with his back against the door. He saw Harley watching him. "Most of those fellas won't try to come in here, but there are a couple of crazies who might attempt it. You know, to get to you."

 _He's just trying to keep me safe._ The thought both comforted and frightened her. The Joker was not known for his kind, protective mannerisms. What did he have in store? She knew how dangerous this man was, she'd read about his crimes. Why was he keeping her in here?

"Why did you bring me in here?" Harley asked, not sure she wanted the answer to that question.

"They would've torn you to shreds. Eaten you, maybe. A couple would probably enjoy it." His voice was matter-of-fact, as if describing a problem with a car, and held no emotion whatsoever.

"Why do you care?" Harley heard herself ask, vaguely aware it wasn't the most professional question.

Joker raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I wouldn't?" He didn't give her time to answer. "I enjoy our little chats Doctor. I'd hate to see your pretty face torn off. Who would I talk to then?"

Harley didn't know what to say. Luckily, it didn't seem like he was waiting for a response. Joker's eyes were on the ceiling. He looked bored.

"Can I ask you another question?" Harley asked.

Joker didn't look at her. "Yes."

"Will you answer it?"

Joker grinned. "That depends."

"On?"

"On what it is."

"Why did you request me to be your doctor? Honestly."

Joker finally met her gaze. "What makes you ask that?"

"No reason really." Even Harley could recognise how insincere she sounded.

Joker got to his feet, and Harley instinctively held the gun tighter. "Now hold on a second Doctor. There's something on your mind, I can tell. Why the sudden interest in this subject?" He paused, as if thinking. "And earlier, you became rather brisk with me when I hinted that I'd enjoy fucking you."

Harley flinched at his lack of tact. But Joker didn't notice. "So I get the impression someone has made you feel insecure regarding our professional relationship."

His eyes blazed, watching her from across the room, leaning now on the glass wall.

Harley hated how astute he was. Sometimes she wondered if he was even mad at all, how could he know so much so easily?

"No, I…I don't-"

Joker slammed his hand on the glass. "No! Don't even think about lying to me Doctor!" Suddenly he was kneeling on the floor in front of her, the gun in her hands just centimeters from his forehead. "Tell me," he hissed.

His warm breath tickled his face. He was so close now, Harley was terrified. She had to tell him the truth, he'd know if she was lying. "I…I heard two people talking."

"About me?"

"And me."

Joker grinned. "Good, what did they say?"

"Please, please step back," Harley stammered.

Joker grinned, getting close enough for the gun to press against his porcelain forehead. "We both know you won't. Now tell me what they said."

Harley took a breath, wondering if he could hear her heart beating as loudly as she could. "They said I was chosen as your primary because, because Sharp thought I was pretty."

"What else?"

"That you chose me for the same reason."

"For your looks?"

"Yes."

Joker leaned even closer, pushing against the gun now. "But that's not it, what else?"

Harley stared into his cold, beautiful, terrifying eyes. "They said they thought you were a weirdo, that you'd never been with a woman before."

Joker grinned, finally moving back. He sat cross legged in front of her. "Ha ha ha ha," he cackled, throwing his head back. She wasn't sure if the laugh was genuine, surely there was nothing to laugh about? But at least he had moved away. When the laughter stopped, he just looked at her for a moment, then got to his feet and paced the room.

"So you believe them, and now you feel uncomfortable around me?" Joker drawled.

"No, I don't believe them."

Joker stopped. "Interesting. I can't tell if you're lying or not, which means you're not sure either." He leaned in a little closer. "Let me put your mind at ease, my dear Doctor Quinzel. I did not choose you as my primary psychiatrist because I _"think you're pretty"."_ He said those words in a high pitched mockery of her voice, and Harley's face burned. Joker grinned, waving his hand, "Well, it wasn't the _only_ reason." He sat down to her left, leaning on the wall. Harley turned her body, the gun still pointing at Joker. "And to further comfort your fragile little mind, I have indeed enjoyed the pleasure of a number of women. And I can assure you, I am quite capable of controlling myself in your presence." He leaned in closer, "For now, at least." He snapped his teeth at her, then cackled again, turning to face forwards.

"You shouldn't make jokes like that," Harley said, as strongly as she could. "Not while I'm aiming a gun at you."

Joker turned to look at her, made a sound almost like a growl, and then within an instant he had wrenched the gun from her hands, and aimed it at her own head. Harley froze. Joker's grin widened. "Relax doctor, if I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it by now." He laughed, tossing the gun on the floor beside her. "But you might perhaps want to think about turning the safety off. Otherwise you're gonna struggle to blow my pretty face off."

Harley grabbed the gun hastily, and pressed the button to disable the safety. Joker watched her with that intense expression, and she found herself unable to look away.

"Did you know I had the safety on the whole time?"

"Yes."

"Why did you tell me?"

Joker grinned. "If you decide you want to shoot me, I'd hate for you to be disappointed."

Harley shook her head. "You're not afraid to die?"

"Fear is a wasted emotion, Doctor Quinzel. Just ask Doctor Crane," he nodded his head in the direction of Crane's cell. "Fear stops us from doing all the fantastic, terrible, beautiful, horrific things we've always dreamed of. We're better off without it."

"How do you stop being afraid?"

There was a banging on the glass. Harley hurriedly looked up. Victor Zsasz was waving at her, licking his lips. Joker sighed and got to his feet. He stalked over to the glass. Harley couldn't see if he was mouthing any words, or whether he just looked at Zsasz, but whatever he did made Zsasz back off. Joker returned to his spot at the door, sitting with his back against it.

"This is nice," he said into the darkness. "I do enjoy our conversations."

* * *

Harley didn't know how long she had been down there. It felt like hours. Joker hadn't said anything for a long time. She was cold, uncomfortable on the stone floor, and fed up. She shifted a little, to see if it would help.

"You can get onto the bed if you like," Joker's voice drifted across the room.

"I'm fine," Harley muttered.

"Are you wondering why they haven't come for you yet?"

She hadn't been. She hadn't been thinking of much other than her discomfort, but that was a good point. Why hadn't anyone come looking for her yet?

"It'll be Bowles," Joker said, answering his own question. "He left you behind, so he'll be trying to figure out how to get you back without getting himself into trouble. He's on his last warning is our dear Frankie."

"Do you like him?" Harley asked, just wanting something to talk about.

"Hmm…Do I like him?" Joker pondered aloud. "Do I like the smelly man who locks me away for 23 hours a day, and often gives me a little slap as he does it? Yes, I believe I do!"

"I can't stand him," Harley admitted, once again revealing more to Joker than she was meant to..

"Well of course you can't, you're not insane."

"Are you?" Harley watched his response. He seemed surprised at the question. _Almost as surprised as me, why did I ask that? Surely the answer is obvious?_

"Sanity is a funny old thing, Doc. To get out of this place, one needs a certificate of sanity, but _you_ don't have one of those. So does that make _you_ insane?"

"I haven't done the things you've done," Harley retorted.

"Maybe that's just because you've never had the chance. Give it time," Joker grinned. "Next time I get out of this place, I'll show you how to have a good time."

"You're not due for release," Harley replied, but she knew that's not what he meant. Joker never stayed in Arkham that long, he always escaped somehow. Joker winked at her. "Just say the word, I'll help you experience all the things you ever dreamed of."

Harley paused. "You never answered my question."

"Which question is that?"

"How do you stop being afraid?"

Joker grinned. "One day I'll show you."

* * *

More time passed, and just as Harley was seriously considering whether sitting on the bed would be completely inappropriate, she heard a commotion from across the corridor. She got to her feet, moving closer to the glass.

"That sounds like your knights in shining armor," Joker drawled from the floor.

Suddenly Harley had a thought. "Get up," she said, turning to Joker.

He looked up at her, but didn't move.

"I mean it, you have to get up! Otherwise they might think you've trapped me in here."

"Haven't I?" Joker asked.

"No, you kept me safe."

"There's still time." Joker got to his feet, now standing just inches from Harley. He stepped even closer, close enough to kiss her if he wanted to.

 _Why did I think that? It's not like I want him to kiss me._

"You won't hurt me…" Harley breathed. "You've had all this time and you haven't even touched me."

"Not yet. But anticipation is half the fun," Joker whispered. "How sure are you that I've not been waiting for the right moment to bash your pretty little head in?" He was so close, but still not touching her. "A piñata might be beautifully decorated, but the best part is smashing it to bits to find out what's inside."

"Get out of my way, Joker. If you don't, they'll shoot you." She could hear the commotion getting closer, and someone was calling her name.

Joker's tone changed. "Would that upset you?"

"What?"

"If they killed me, would it upset you?"

"You're my patient."

"That's not what I asked." Joker stared at her with that intense expression of his that made her feel like a child. "Would it upset you?"

They were getting closer now, she had to get out. "Yes." She answered quickly.

Joker stepped to the side without a word. Harley hurriedly opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

"Doctor Quinzel!" It was Aaron Cash. He rushed over, "Are you alight?" He glanced into Joker's cell, his eyes wide. "You were in there, with him?"

"Yes, but I'm fine." She showed him the gun. "I had this, he didn't come near me." Cash looked surprised, but just nodded. "Let's get you out of here."

As Cash led her away from Joker's cell she chanced a look over her shoulder. Joker stood by the glass, watching her intently as she left. Had the Joker really just saved her life? Or had that moment he had supposedly been waiting for, the moment he could kill her, just never presented itself?

"Cash, we've got a problem!" A guard had rushed over to the pair of them, and was talking to Cash hurriedly. It took Harley a few seconds to register what he was saying.

"Wait, Zsasz has escaped?!"


	9. Chapter 9

**You guys are amazing, there were so many wonderfully kind reviews on the last chapter that I don't have time to write all of your names, but thank you to each and every one of you! I sometimes worry that my stories are only interesting to me, so it's really lovely and reassuring to know that others are enjoying what I write. You all make my day when I read your reviews, or see someone who has followed the story, thank you so much!**

 **I hope you all like this chapter. It's a little different to the last few, but hopefully you will enjoy it! I've tried my best to make it exciting, let's hope i've managed it :)**

* * *

The first thing Harley had done when she got to her office was call Sarah. Luckily, her friend picked up on the second ring.

"Don't worry," Sarah said anxiously, "They've already called me. I was out for dinner, now I'm not going back home. Can I stay with you?"

"Of course," Harley had replied. "I'm on my way."

When Harley arrived back at her apartment that evening, Sarah was already inside (she'd picked up a spare key years ago, and had been letting herself in whenever she liked ever since).

"I feel like a nervous wreck," Sarah breathed, pacing the room. "I mean, I know he doesn't know where I live. I know there's a thousand places he could go…But I can't shake the idea that I'm gonna turn around and he's going to be right behind me…that he's watching me! It's ridiculous, he might've even forgotten about me and moved on to someone else, not that that's any better…"

Harley just nodded sympathetically. She didn't want to say that she had heard Zsasz talk about killing her only a few hours ago. In fact, she decided against telling Sarah anything about her evening in max security. Her evening with the Joker. It wasn't something her friend was ready for right now.

In fact, Harley still wasn't sure she was ready to process it herself.

Harley and Sarah went to bed soon after, both with their minds buzzing.

* * *

Harley woke up to the sound of her door knocking. She got to her feet, padding across the carpet with a yawn. Her hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders, but she wasn't ready to face it yet. She opened the door. No one there. Had she imagined it? She yawned again, deciding to go back to bed for little longer.

Just as Harley went to close the door, she noticed a small envelope on the mat. That was weird, post normally went into the little labelled slots downstairs.

Her stomach sank. She thought back to the last time she had got an unexpected delivery.

 _Please don't be anything that used to part of someone's body,_ Harley pleaded as she crouched down. She leaned in and cautiously picked up the little brown envelope. Her name was written elegantly on the front, in cursive script.

 _Is that Joker's writing?_

Feeling confident the envelope was too thin and dry to contain any body parts, Harley opened it curiously. Inside there were two credit-cards, and a single note. Harley read the note first.

"Time to be fearless. Time to have fun."

She raised an eyebrow, not really understanding, then looked at the cards. They weren't credit cards, they were membership cards. She felt a smile spread across her lips as she read the front.

"What's that?" Sarah was at her side.

"Membership to a free-running class down town."

"Free-running? That thing where you jump across buildings?"

"Yeah, among other things."

Sarah looked at her curiously as they stepped back into the apartment. "I didn't know you were into that?"

"I…uh…only signed up the other day." Harley didn't like lying, but it's not like she could say "Oh yeah, they're from the Joker, he likes to send me things now."

"So you're going to do it?" Sarah asked, and Harley could see her eyeing up the other card. Sarah was fiercely competitive, and never one to be outdone in anything.

Harley grinned. "Yep, and you're coming with me!"

* * *

The class was incredible. It took place in a huge warehouse, packed to the rafters with different equipment. First the instructors taught them some basics, then they were allowed to just move around as they saw fit, and try the new things. The instructors gave them tips for each piece of equipment, but it was up to Sarah and Harley what they did next.

Harley's gymnastic experience proved incredibly useful, as she already had great strength in her core muscles, arms, and legs. She could land gracefully from almost any jump, and was quickly able to work out a path from one object to another.

"We'll have to try this in the city!" Harley laughed to Sarah, after executing another perfect landing. Her friend landed far less gracefully beside her. "Let's get to the stage where I don't fall on my ass every time, then we'll talk!" Sarah puffed as she got to her feet, smiling despite her bruised body.

* * *

Harley and Sarah walked back to her apartment sweaty, red faced, but in better spirits than either of them had been for weeks. Harley had managed to keep Sarah distracted, and in doing so had finally been able to have fun for the first time in…well…she couldn't even remember the last time she had so much fun.

"I say we get in, each have a shower, open some wine, and watch trash tv," Harley suggested, putting her key in the lock.

"Sounds fantastic," Sarah grinned, shifting her shoulder bag. "I can't wait to get under that hot water."

"Yeah, too bad I'm first!" Harley laughed, throwing the door open, charging straight to the bathroom, and slamming the bathroom door behind her. She heard Sarah laughing, playfully hammering on the door. "No fair! I'm less fit: I worked up way more of a sweat!"

Harley hurriedly turned on the water. "What? Sorry, I can't hear you, I'm showering!"

Sarah laughed again. "Fine, I'm ordering pizza, and you're paying."

Harley grinned, stepping under the hot water. It felt so good. Fit or not, Harley had pushed herself hard, and her whole body ached. She stretched out, letting the heat soothe her sore muscles.

Harley knew she should shower quickly, but she must've been in there longer than she thought, as soon the pizza guy was knocking. Harley heard the knock at the door just as she was rinsing the conditioner out of her hair. "Don't eat it all!" She yelled, hurrying to wash the suds out of her locks and managing to get them in her eyes in the process. "Fuck," she muttered, trying to clear her eyes as quickly as possible.

Hastily she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around her hair and slipping into a dressing gown. "Shower's free!" She called.

No answer. Sarah was probably stuffing her face. She may have been skinny, but that girl could eat! Harley dried her hair roughly with the towel and ran a comb through it before it became it's usual lion's mane. Then she opened the bathroom door. "Sarah, you wanna eat first or shower?" She asked.

No answer again. Harley looked around the living room. Sarah wasn't there. She glanced at the front door: it was ajar. She walked over and leaned out. No sign of Sarah or the pizza. Had she gone out to get money? She didn't need too, Harley had a pizza jar (yes, she was ashamed to admit she ate so much take-out that she had a designated jar full of cash in her kitchen), and Sarah had never been afraid to dip into it before.

Harley turned around. The bedroom door was closed. Did she close it before they left this morning? She didn't think so, she had no reason to. "Sarah?" Harley called, trying to ignore the prickling feeling as the hairs on her arms stood up.

 _She's just playing a joke._

 _Or maybe she's listening to music and she can't hear me._

 _Probably just eating the pizza in the bedroom._

 _She'll be having a nap, that's all._

Harley was at the bedroom door now. She took a breath, cursing herself for being such a baby, and swung the door open.

Sarah was there, on the bed. She was tied up, with a gag in her mouth. "Sarah!" Harley breathed. Her friend's eyes were wild, flicking from Harley to the space behind her. Harley spun around.

SMACK.

Darkness.

* * *

"-and you'll be transformed-"

Everything was dark, fuzzy.

"-so perfect-"

Head hurt.

"-knife slides in between-"

A voice, high and excited.

"-beautiful to see-"

Harley couldn't move her arms.

"-can't wait to-"

The words didn't make sense, like pieces of a puzzle that don't fit together, no matter how hard you try. But slowly, so slowly, the world around her began to slip into place. Harley's living room came into focus. She was sitting, but she wasn't comfortable. Harley lifted her head slightly. She was tied to one of the chairs that usually sat around her kitchen table. Now it was in the living room. Sarah was on a chair too, a few feet away to her left.

"It looks like your friend is waking."

 _That's Zsasz's voice. How did he get here?_

"Good evening, dear Doctor Quinzel. How are we tonight?" Zsasz asked. But Harley couldn't answer, she was gagged, just like Sarah. She glanced over at her friend and her stomach dropped. Her friend's face was covered in cuts. Her lip was split. Some of her beautiful red hair had been cut. Her clothes were ripped in several places. Her mascara was smeared, and her eyes red from crying. She looked over at Harley with an expression it took her friend a moment to understand.

It was an apologetic look. She was feeling guilty, like it was her fault Harley was experiencing this. Harley wanted to cry out "It's not your fault!" But of course, she couldn't.

"Now, now, now," Zsasz began gleefully. "Now that we're all awake, we should get started. Who gets the pleasure of being transformed first?"

"Mmmffffff" Sarah was trying to speak, trying to offer herself up. Harley tried to argue, but of course she made just as much sense as her friend, thanks to the gag in her mouth.

"My my, both so eager. I cannot decide!" Zsasz grinned. He held one of Harley's kitchen knives in his left hand. He didn't have his shirt on again, and his ugly scars were even more vivid this close.

 _There must be hundreds,_ Harley thought. But Zsasz didn't give her time to think, because he wrenched her off the chair and threw her to the floor. Her ankles were tied together, and her hands tied behind her back. "I think I'll start with the lovely Doctor Quinzel," Zsasz continued. "Seeing as how the clown got in my way yesterday."

"Mmmffff! Mmmmffff!" Sarah protested from the chair.

"And it's polite to thank the host," Zsasz continued as he stalked closer to Harley, but then, as if caught off-guard by a thought, stopped. He turned to Sarah, who was still crying out from behind her gag. "No, you're absolutely right Doctor Cassidy. You were always supposed to be first." He moved away from Harley, heading back towards her friend. "Let's continue with our work, shall we?"

Sarah stared the madman down as Zsasz raised his knife. Harley watched with tears in her eyes as he slid it, almost gently, down her friend's face.

Sarah couldn't scream properly, not with the gag, but though she was strong she could not be silent.

Harley was suddenly overwhelmed with her own feelings. But not fear. Not anymore. No.

She was angry. So angry it made her want to rip Zsasz inside out with her bare hands.

She wouldn't let this happen. She would not die here, on the floor of her apartment, in a damp dressing gown, cut into pieces by a madman. And she would certainly not let her best friend die like that either.

Slowly, silently, she assessed the situation.

Zsasz was, sickeningly, busy with his 'work', which gave Harley some time. But not much. She had to do something before Zsasz decided to 'transform' Sarah. Harley's hands were behind her back, but she was flexible. Perhaps she could escape? It would involve putting her hands under her buttocks, along the underside of her legs and over her feet. It would not be comfortable, and she would need to be quick.

Harley wriggled silently into a sitting position and began. She managed to get her hands underneath herself without too much difficulty, but now the tricky part came: slipping them under her legs. Beads of sweat prickled on her forehead, and Harley had to keep stopping to check on Zsasz. He had moved on now, beginning his cuts on Sarah's left arm, humming cheerfully to himself as he worked. Sarah had caught sight of what Harley was doing, but Harley could see she was trying not to watch, trying not to draw attention to what was happening. But there was fire in Sarah's eyes now. She knew it wasn't over.

Finally Harley managed to slip her tied hands under and over her feet, and discovered they were tied only with tape. _Zsasz was in a rush,_ she thought. _It won't take too much to break this._

But more important were her legs. She had to get them free if in case she needed to run, or kick. She could try to unravel the tape? But that might make too much noise. Harley looked around desperately.

 _The kitchen!_

Separated from the living room by only a breakfast island, it was a risk. But it was the only place she would find a knife.

Slowly, silently, Harley moved across the floor, half crawling, half slithering. She could feel carpet burns forming on her arms, but she didn't care. Her robe slipped open, but she couldn't re-tie it, and it was hardly a priority right now.

Finally she hit the linoleum of the kitchen. Inching upwards, not daring to look across the room, Harley grabbed the first knife she could find from the stand, and dropped back onto the floor.

Sawing frantically, Harley began to work her way through the tape holding her ankles together. It seemed to take an eternity, but at last her feet were free. She positioned the knife between her knees so she could work on her hands.

"Little birdie? Little birdie? Where have you flown too?"

Harley's stomach sank at the sound of Zsasz's gentle voice. She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her.

"Come out come out, little birdie. Time to play."

He sounded like he was getting closer, he could only have been on the other side of the kitchen island.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Sarah let out an ear-splitting scream. Harley took her chance, she jumped up, knife in both hands. Zsasz had turned away from the kitchen, turned to look at Sarah, and Harley took this moment to jam the knife into the closest part of his body, his shoulder.

Zsasz cried out in pain, stumbling backwards.

But he was strong. He ripped the knife from his shoulder, ignoring the blood pouring out of the wound. Now he had two knives and was coming for Harley. He ran past the island to the entrance to the kitchen, but Harley was fast despite her tied hands, and clambered up onto the island and over. She ran for Sarah, who was crying out. Frantically she tried to untie her friend's arms, but now Zsasz was coming back, and she had to abandon her attempt.

She made it to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She locked it hurriedly, and within seconds it was shaking as Zsasz slammed his body against it. Suddenly it dawned on Harley that she had left Sarah alone, and it was as though she had been hit in the chest with a hammer. Luckily, Zsasz seemed to have forgotten about Sarah, continuing to pound on the door and scream.

"Let me in!" He cried, his voice no longer calm. Harley's heart raced. If he got in…when he got in…he wouldn't just kill her. He wouldn't just torture her. He'd mutilate her. He'd find every conceivable way to make her suffer for getting away. She could hear the absolute rage in his voice.

But then the door stopped shaking. And when Zsasz spoke again he sounded eerily calm. "Open the door little bird, or I'll have to blow it down."

Harley didn't speak. Her throat was a desert.

"Perhaps your little friend can convince you?" Zsasz sounded further away now. Harley froze. Sarah's scream rang out through the apartment.

"Sarah!" Harley called, reaching for the handle.

"Don't!" Sarah cried. "Don't open it!" She shouted out louder: "Someone help us!" Then her voice was muffled again, Zsasz had put the gag back on.

The door shook once more. Zsasz must've been throwing his whole body against it now, and Harley didn't know how much longer it would hold.

It was as if time slowed down, and Harley had a moment to think. She listened. There was a rhythm to Zsasz's pounding on the door.

BANG – 1- 2- BANG – 1 -2 –BANG

A two second gap between the shaking of the door. Two seconds where he readied himself for his next attempt.

"Open this door right now, little birdie. Or I'll cut her face off and slide it under the door for you…"

 _This is it. Do it now Harley._

BANG -1

Harley unlocked the door and swung it open. She stepped aside just as Zsasz, unable to stop himself, fell forwards into the room. Harley grabbed the knife, which had slipped from his grasp, and slammed it down into his back over, and over, and over again. She screamed through gritted teeth as she rammed the knife through his flesh.

She stopped, breathless, watching the blood pool across her floor. It was beautiful, the red slowly gliding across the ugly grey tiles. She smiled, _There's your fucking transformation Victor._

"Mmmffff!" Sarah's muffled cry snapped Harley back to reality. She ran into the living room, hurriedly cutting Sarah's arms and legs free, before letting her friend cut the tape on her own hands.

Sarah threw her arms around Harley, sobbing uncontrollably into her shoulder. "Is…is he dead?" She choked.

"I don't know," Harley said, her voice hollow. The reality of what she had done slowly sinking in.

Sarah gasped. Harley spun around. Zsasz stood in her bathroom doorway. Blood trickling from every place he had been stabbed.

 _How is he still alive?!_

He stumbled closer. Sarah held the knife in her shaking hands, but Harley didn't need it. She wasn't scared anymore. As Zsasz approached she swung her leg high in the air, kicking the maniac square in the head and knocking him to the floor. He didn't move, blood now flowering on the carpet around him.

"Harley," Sarah's voice was frightened. Harley looked up. There was a man standing by the now open front door. He had brown hair and a brown goatee beard. He eyed the two women, and then Zsasz on the floor. A strange, curious, smile crept across his face.

"Looks like you don't need me after all," he said simply, before turning on his heel and leaving.

After a few moments of silence, Sarah asked. "Who was that?"

"I don't know," Harley shook her head. But though she didn't know who he was, she knew he had been here before. Back when he had been dressed as a delivery man and had handed her a package.

Which meant she knew who he worked for.


	10. Chapter 10

**Once again, big thanks to all of you for your kind words about the last chapter! I was worried it wouldn't be exciting enough, so it was really lovely to hear that so many of you enjoyed it. This one's a little slower paced, but there were some things I wanted to cover, and hopefully you enjoy it. We're building up to something here, so this is a bit more dialogue based.**

 **I know these chapters are coming out quite fast, and I really hope there aren't loads of typos or anything like that. I'm just enjoying writing this story so much, and feeling so inspired that I find myself writing all the time!**

* * *

It had been a week since Zsasz had broken into Harley's apartment, and today she was finally going back to work. Harley hadn't really understood why she'd been forced to stay home in the first place: she felt fine! Yes it was scary, and she wasn't sure she was ready to go home yet (she had been staying with Sarah at her place ever since), but she was ok.

After the mysterious man had left her apartment, Harley had called the cops (what else could she do?) and the asylum. Zsasz was alive, just, and had been taken away in an ambulance. The police took statements from Harley and Sarah, and gave them both a ride to the hospital. Harley didn't need treatment, but Sarah needed some stitches. Not too many, Zsasz's cuts hadn't been that deep, he hadn't wanted to kill her straight away. But it was very possible she would be left with several scars on her face, neck, and arms. Harley had offered to stay with her for a while until she was comfortable being alone again. She didn't mind, it's not like she was in a hurry to see her blood-stained carpet any time soon. She thought about hiring professional cleaners to fix up the place, but right now the idea of more strangers roaming her apartment was too scary. She'd deal with it another time.

Sarah was having a couple more weeks off work, and Harley wasn't even sure she was going back at all, but Harley herself had been going crazy shut up inside. She wanted to be busy. She wanted to be working.

She wanted to see Joker.

Harley shook away that thought. _Don't be ridiculous,_ she told herself. _You want to get back to your patient, sure, that's normal. You don_ _'t_ miss _the incredibly dangerous psychopath. No, it's just professional. Even if he did send someone to help you when Zsasz escaped._

She was sure of that now: that Joker had sent that guy to protect her. She couldn't prove it, but she knew.

"You don't have to go," Sarah said, still in her dressing gown. She hadn't dressed in days. Harley was standing in front of the mirror, tying her hair in a loose plait. "You could take another week, Sharp wouldn't argue."

"I need to be working," Harley replied honestly. "I need to be busy." She turned to Sarah, "Are you going to be ok by yourself?"

Sarah nodded, though she didn't look sure. "Yeah, I'll lock the door as soon as you leave, and I probably won't answer the phone. But I'll be fine. Plus I have these." She rattled the bottle of sleeping pills she'd been prescribed.

Harley smiled, pulling Sarah in for a hug. "See you later. I'll pick up dinner."

* * *

As confident as she had been leaving the apartment, however, Harley couldn't help but feel nerves in the pit of her stomach when she pulled into Arkham. She'd only been gone a week, yet she felt like a tourist again. There were more guards at the gates now, and less patients roaming the grounds. As Harley's car creaked its way into the parking lot (she really needed a new one), she saw Aaron Cash waiting for her. He was smiling widely, and she couldn't help but mirror it. She really liked Cash.

"Doctor Quinzel!" He beamed, as she climbed out of the car. "Good to have you back!"

"Thanks Cash," Harley replied. "Did I miss anything?"

Cash's face flickered, but he shook his head. "Nah, not really. Come on, I'll walk you to your office."

They walked in amicable silence: Harley smiling at the doctors she passed, who all looked pleased enough to see her back. Most of the guards clearly didn't know what had happened, didn't know who she was, or didn't care. But Harley didn't mind, it's not like she knew any of them either.

Harley couldn't help but gasp when she opened her office door she saw the room was littered with cards, flowers, and chocolates.

"What's this?" Harley laughed.

"We wanted to welcome you back in style," Cash grinned. "We might've gone a little overboard, but the girls said you can never have too much chocolate."

"They're right," Harley smiled. "Thanks Cash."

"No problem." Cash's smile flickered again, and Harley knew something was wrong.

"What is it?" She asked, squeezing his arm. "Something's happened?"

Cash sighed, running a hand over his close-cut hair. "Yeah, I guess I have to tell you. It's Joker... There was an incident."

Harley suddenly felt like the temperature in her office had been cranked up: her skin was flushed, her hands were clammy, and her heart was racing. "What happened? Did he get hurt? Or, did he hurt somebody?" She was ashamed about the order she'd asked those questions in, but Cash didn't seem to notice.

"It's probably better if I show you," Cash said, taking a memory stick out of his pocket. He stepped over to Harley's desk and put the device into her computer. Harley moved closer, and watched as Cash opened a file. It appeared to be security footage of a hallway, and Harley recognized it as the corridor leading to the patient showers. A guard appeared at the end of the corridor, at the top of the screen. He was walking with Joker, who was in handcuffs, with another guard on Joker's other side.

"He's not in his straitjacket?" Harley asked, a horrible feeling she knew where this was going.

Cash shook his head. "He was heading for a shower, it's one of the only times he doesn't wear the jacket when out of his cell, just the cuffs."

Another guard appeared near the bottom of the screen, the other end of the corridor. As he approached, he said something to the guards with Joker, then headed quickly in the opposite direction. The two guards appeared to be talking to each other for a moment, then one of them tried to pull Joker back down the hall, in the direction they had just came, but he didn't move. As the other one went to help, Joker turned and head butted him. The rest happened so quickly it was almost a blur: in a flurry of kicks, head butts, and choking with his restrained hands, Joker floored the two men. He immediately knelt down and rummaged through one of the guard's pockets. He pulled out a cellphone, and began typing onto the screen quickly. He raised it to his head, he was talking to someone, then threw the phone down onto the floor. He was clearly angry, smashing the phone under his foot and then kicking and punching the wall. He paced angrily, and though there was no sound, Harley could see he was yelling.

More guards appeared on screen, several carrying electrical batons. They surrounded Joker and beat him to the ground. Harley's stomach knotted, and though she had just seen Joker viciously beating two men, she felt angry at these guards for what they were doing. It was merciless, and soon Joker was on the ground: though she couldn't see him clearly anymore.

"That's enough," she muttered, and Cash paused the tape.

"Do we know why he did it?" Harley asked.

"Well, we got lucky: this corridor is one of the only places where the security cameras also record sound." Cash rolled his eyes. "Most of the cameras in this place either glitch or just don't work, and the sound recording is almost nonexistent, but we got it here. Hang on." He reached over and turned the sound up on the footage, then played it again.

The guards appeared once more, walking Joker down the hall. Joker walked silently, while the guards had a quiet conversation about football. The other guard appeared, walking briskly towards the three of them. "Hey, did you hear? Zsasz has escaped! Put the clown into lockdown, we're searching the grounds."

"They think he's still here?" One of the guards asked.

"You never know!" The new guard replied, continuing on down the hall.

"You think he'll be on the grounds?" One of Joker's guards asked the other.

"Nah. He'll be long gone by now. Probably already gutted his first-" He tried to pull Joker back down the hall, but Harley watched once again as Joker took them down. He reached for the phone, punched in the number, then spoke rapidly. "Jonny, go there now." Then he threw the phone down. "Fuck!" He yelled. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

Harley reached over and paused the footage, not wanting to watch the next part. "Do you know who he called?" She asked as casually as she could manage.

Cash shook his head. "No, and we couldn't trace the call. Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

"No," Harley lied, far too easily.

"I thought maybe it was about Zsasz, that seems to be what set him off." Cash was smart, but though he was watching her intently, Harley could see he genuinely wanted her opinion. He didn't suspect Joker was sending someone to protect her. Not yet at least.

"Can I see him?" She asked, changing the subject.

Cash looked mildly surprised, "You want to see him? After that?"

"I'm his primary psychiatrist," Harley replied. "It's my job."

"No one would judge you if you let him go: gave him to another doctor. The clown's dangerous."

"I'll be fine Cash. Can you arrange for him to be taken to the treatment room?"

Cash paused for a moment, then nodded. "I'll call you when he's there." He got up and left her office, and Harley tried to digest what she had just seen. Joker was fine until he heard about Zsasz escaping. He knew Zsasz would come for Sarah, and he knew Sarah would be with Harley.

 _How did he know these things?_

And then there was the man: Jonny. The man who came to her apartment. How did he know what Joker meant when he said those three words: Go there now? Was he watching her? Ready to turn up at her place at a moments notice? And why did Joker care what happened to her? It was just like when she was in his cell. He knew Harley's gun had the safety on, but still didn't try to hurt her.

Was he actually being honest when he said he enjoyed her company? Was such a man capable of enjoying anything that didn't involve pain or chaos?

Harley was snapped back to reality when the phone on her desk rang. She glanced at the clock. Had she really been sitting there for half an hour? She picked up the phone, it was Cash. "He's ready Doc."

"Thank you Cash, I'll be right there."

"Be careful."

* * *

Harley arrived outside the therapy room to see Frank Bowles and two other guards playing cards at the table.

"Good to see you, Doc," Bowles said.

Harley didn't reply. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond to the man who had left her in max security, surrounded by dangerous criminals.

She leaned into the door, opening it a few inches, when she heard Bowles' chair scrape along the floor behind her. "Doc, I'm sorry about what happened down in max."

Harley turned around, giving Bowles her coldest stare.

He scratched his head. "I don't know how it happened, I was so sure you were already through the door."

Harley was flabbergasted. He knew exactly where she was: he'd made eye contact with her before he ran out of the door!

"I tried to get back in when we realised you weren't with us," Bowles continued. "But Sharp said it was too dangerous." He paused, "But, I mean, we didn't realise you were gone for a while, because we were so…we were so stressed about what happened, and we had to lockdown the other areas. So we just kinda thought you were safe, then someone realised. I think it was me and-"

Harley held up her hand. "Sorry, as much as I'd love to hear the rest of this fucking ridiculous story, I have a patient to get to. But why don't you email it to me? It'll be nice for you to use your laptop for something other than online betting or pornography." Without another word, she stormed into the room, stomping across the tiled floor and dropping down at the table angrily. She tried to organise her papers, hurriedly sorting them into a semblance of order, and cursing under her breath when she dropped a couple onto the floor.

It was then she remembered she wasn't alone. She looked up, Joker was regarding her with a smile on his face.

"Sorry," Harley muttered, her face flushing with embarrassment at the thought of Joker hearing her conversation, and of seeing her so angry.

"Never apologise for being yourself," Joker replied.

"It's unprofessional," Harley said, mostly to herself.

"You don't have to pretend with me," Joker grinned. "How are you feeling, Doctor Quinzel?" Something about his voice, that way he savoured her name, felt comforting, almost reassuring. And he looked good, or rather, she should say, he looked well. Yes, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, perhaps he was not sleeping? But other than that he looked in good spirits, and had no bruising that she could see at least.

"Fine thank you, how are you?"

"Just marvellous now that I've seen you."

Harley shifted a little. "I hear you had an exciting time a week ago?"

"You could say the same about yourself. Had a visitor?"

"Why don't you answer my question first?" Harley persisted. "Or is that asking too much?"

Joker leaned forward, his straitjacket resting on the table. "Shall we play one of our games Ms Quinzel?"

"I don't know that I'm in the mood, Mr Joker." She didn't know where that name came from, and it sounded far too playful for this setting, but a little part of her quite liked it. And a bigger part of her _did_ want to play his game, not that she would admit it.

Joker's grin widened, and he leaned back a little. "I like that, call me that from now on. Mr Joker… Very authoritative."

"So what's the game?" Harley asked, trying to bring them back on track.

"I thought you didn't want to play?" Joker retorted quickly, a playful tone to his voice. Harley felt a smile dance on her lips. Joker winked, "There are so many games I would like to play with you, but for now this one will do. A very special deal for you today, two for one. You give me two truths about yourself, I'll tell you one."

"You'll answer my questions?"

"Yes. But only the interesting ones."

Harley rolled her eyes, "So the ones which actually tell me nothing about you?"

Joker's face was deadpan now. "Perhaps if you're clever enough, you'll find a way to learn something new."

Harley sighed. "Ok, but I go first."

He considered this. "Agreed."

Harley thought for a moment. Realising there was one question she wanted to ask more than anything else, regardless of the fact it carried little psychological value, and did nothing to fill in the blank spaces regarding his past.

"Are you ok?"

Joker looked a little surprised. Harley clarified. "I saw the security footage, where the guards attacked you…" She then realised how biased and unprofessional that sounded. "I mean, when they restrained you after you assaulted those men."

"I appreciate your concern my dear doctor, but I'm fine."

"It looked painful."

"It was."

Harley was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to reach out and touch him. To hold his hand and squeeze it. She was grateful he was wrapped up in that straitjacket, at least it meant she couldn't do anything stupid.

"My turn," Joker drawled. "How did you feel?"

"When?"

"When you thought you had killed Zsasz. When you stabbed him over and over and over again."

Harley felt her mouth drop a little. "How did you-"

"Ah ah ah Doctor," Joker grinned, playfully shaking his head. "It's not your turn."

Harley took a breath. "I felt…I felt… Scared."

Joker frowned. "I think that's a lie. You know I don't like it when you lie to me."

"I _was_ scared!"

"But there was something else too, wasn't there?" Joker persisted.

She didn't want to answer. There was. Of course there was, and he knew it. She was ashamed to say the words. But she had to answer, otherwise he'd stop speaking to her altogether.

Harley leaned a little closer, almost whispering for fear someone would hear her. "I felt, exhilarated. Like, like it was the first time I was truly alive." She had not been able to admit those feelings to herself, not until now. But it wasn't as frightening as she thought: saying them aloud.

Joker sat forward. "You liked it?"

Harley nodded, then tried to justify herself. "Only because of what he did. It's a natural reaction."

Joker's face hardened. "What did he do? Did he cut you? Show me your arms."

"What? No, he didn't-"

"Show me your arms!" Joker yelled, his voice echoing off the cold walls. The door behind him swung open, one of the guards standing ready looked over at Harley, reaching for something on his belt. Harley hastily waved him away, "We're fine."

He didn't look sure, but nodded and closed the door.

Joker's eyes never left her. "Show me," he growled.

She didn't need to. It's not like he could make her. Probably. But Harley found herself rolling up her sleeves and presenting her arms to the clown. "See, Mr Joker? No cuts. He didn't touch me, not really."

"He tied you up?"

"Yes."

"But he didn't cut you?"

"No," Harley shook her head. "He was too busy with Sar- with Doctor Cassidy."

"Good."

Harley scowled. "Not really. My best friend has scars all over her face, neck and arms. She's frightened to be alone, so I'm now living in her tiny apartment with her. She won't answer the door or phone, and I doubt she'll ever feel safe ever again."

"We all gotta grow up sometime Doc," Joker replied, sounding almost bored.

"It's my turn," Harley said angrily, not sure if she wanted to continue.

Joker nodded.

"How do you know if something is right or wrong?"

"Nothing is ever right or wrong Doctor. You do what makes you feel alive, that's all that matters."

"You can't really believe that."

"I do."

"If everyone lived like that, what would the world be like?"

Joker grinned. "It would be chaos, my dear. And wouldn't that be wonderful?" He leaned closer, whispering now. "I wonder where sweet little Harleen Quinzel would find herself in that kind of world?"

"I doubt I'd survive it," Harley found she was whispering now too.

Joker leaned even closer, their faces almost touching. "I don't know, I think you'd find out who you truly are."

"And who would I be?"

"A beautiful, dangerous creature."

"You make me sound like an animal," Harley replied, not sure how to take what he said. Why did she feel so complimented that Joker had described her as beautiful? There was something in the air between them: something powerful and electric, and it was scaring Harley, the more aware of it she became.

"You're like a lioness my dear Doctor. You shouldn't be caged like this. You should be free to fly and fight and fuck as much as you want." He wasn't smiling now, but staring at her with a fire in his eyes.

"That's who you think I am?"

"That's who I hope you are. But we'll see."


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi guys, a bit of a shorter chapter today, but I'm anticipating the next one to be quite long, so I wanted to get this out first! I hope you like it, and you don't mind the slow burn of this story. I really wanted to take some time building up the relationship between Harley and Joker, to make it more realistic that my relatively normal and sane Harley would end up with Joker, rather than her just falling for him right away, if that makes sense? Hopefully it's not boring that it's taking a while, I promise things are set to get moving soon!**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter, it takes a turn for the unexpected, which I hope is believable and not too uncomfortable to read. I really tried to handle the subject matter delicately. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, and/or favourited so far, you really make my day every time I see them!**

* * *

"Tell me about your childhood Mr Joker."

"That's a boring question Doctor Quinzel."

"Every question I ask which threatens to tell me anything real about you is, in your eyes, a boring question. I'm your psychiatrist, how am I supposed to help you if I know nothing about your past?"

"And you think knowing about my childhood will allow you to put all the pieces of my mad little puzzle together?"

"Couldn't hurt to try, could it?"

Joker didn't answer, and Harley began to feel frustrated. It was the day after coming back to work. Though she hadn't got much from their session yesterday, Harley had felt confident that today would be different. After all, Joker had been glad to see her, he had sent someone to her house to protect her when he knew she was in danger, surely he would be ready to give her something? Any piece of information that could help her better understand this question mark of a man?

But no. Things would never be that easy with Joker. Harley sighed, louder than she had intended to. A smile played on Joker's lips. "Do I frustrate you?"

"Yes," Harley admitted.

"Good, you frustrate me too."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "How so? I've answered every question you ever asked me. Far too honestly. In fact, I doubt the Warden would approve of the things I have told you."

"Sharpie approves of nothing, understands nothing, and knows nothing. You needn't worry about his opinion. And _you_ frustrate _me_ in a hundred other ways sweetheart."

"Doctor Quinzel," Harley corrected, trying to ignore the tingles that ran across her skin when he called her that. Joker nodded, "Of course."

"So, are you going to tell me anything about your childhood?"

Joker raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me about yours?"

"Fine," Harley replied haughtily. "It was normal."

"Mine too," Joker echoed. Harley must've looked disbelieving, because he continued. "Is that so hard to believe, my dear Doctor Quinzel? That the 'Clown Prince of Gotham' grew up in a normal family?"

"Honestly? Yes, it is."

"Why is that?"

Harley took a moment to decide how to phrase the next part. "Because a person doesn't… doesn't become someone like you, without something having happened to them, something that changes them forever. Those things often occur in childhood."

"Perhaps. You said your childhood was 'normal', Doctor. But what is normal?"

Harley decided to start with the basics. "I had a mom."

"So did I."

"We were close."  
"So were we."

"She's dead now."

"Ditto."

Harley tried to work out if Joker was telling the truth. His expression was serious, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. "How?" Harley probed.

"No questions today," Joker replied. "A new game. A truth for a truth. No questions."

Harley considered this, butterflies in her stomach. If Joker was willing to be honest with her, if the stuff he had said about his mother was true, then she already knew more about him than anyone else. As much as she desperately didn't want to talk about her childhood, she couldn't pass up this opportunity.

"My mother died almost a year ago."

"I was seven."

"It was cancer."

"Murder."

 _Did you murder her?_ Harley bit back the question that rose to her lips. Not only was that not the game today, but she couldn't bear to know the answer. She told herself she already knew: this dangerous man was more than capable of killing his own mother, despite the fact that he was only a child when she died, but a bigger part of her couldn't believe it. He'd done so much to keep her safe, a man like that wouldn't kill his mom.

"My dad wasn't around," Harley continued.

"Mine was."

"I have no siblings."

"Neither do I."

It wasn't much, she didn't know the names of his parents, who killed his mom or where his dad was. But if he was being honest (and that was always the rub with Joker, you never knew), then he was confiding things he'd never told any doctor before. Harley tried to keep her tone light.

"I did well in school."

"So did I."

"I had a few friends, but not many. To be honest I was shy."

"Me too."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "I can't believe that."

Joker's face was serious. "I told you, if you were honest with me, I would be honest with you." He looked almost hurt that she didn't believe him, and Harley felt a sting in her chest.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I just…You're so confident, I always pictured you as popular at school. Though I suppose being shy would make sense."

"How so?"

"Children who are socially withdrawn are more typically the ones who…" she didn't know how to finish that sentence? _Typically the ones who go crazy?_

Luckily Joker didn't seem to mind that she had stopped midway through. He just watched her, waiting for the next truth.

"I grew up in a house."

"Me too."

"In a good neighborhood."

"Me too."

"I was loved."

"That must've been nice."

Harley was taken aback. For some reason, she had not expected that, not after what she had heard so far. "You weren't loved? Why do you feel that way?"

"No questions Doctor, you know the rules."

"Please. Just that one. I won't ask any more today, I swear. Just let me ask one."

Joker was silent for a long time, and Harley wondered if she'd pushed it too far. She took a breath. "If you answer one question for me, I'll tell you about something that I never told anyone."

Joker cocked his head a little. She could see he was intrigued. He licked his lips. "Is it juicy, Doctor Quinzel?"

"It's one of the worst experiences in my life, does that count as juicy?"

Joker leaned forwards a little. "Tell you what, Doc. You tell me, and if it's good, if I feel like it was worth it, I'll answer your question."

Harley took a breath. She couldn't believe she was doing this.

* * *

 _Five year old Harleen sat in the mud, making pies for her mommy. Mommy was working, and she was being looked after by Uncle Ned and Auntie June. They weren't her real Uncle and Auntie, just friends of Mommy, but they looked after her all the time, and always bought her presents on her birthdays, so they were close enough._

 _Auntie June always braided Harleen's hair in intricate styles. She did it while playing old songs on her record player, and would sing to the little girl as she tied ribbons in her hair. Auntie June loved Harleen. She had always wanted a daughter, but had three sons instead, who had all left home. Harleen looked forwards to her mornings with Auntie June: they would bake, play dress up, sing songs, and draw pictures. Then Auntie June would go to work, and Uncle Ned would take over._

 _Harleen liked Uncle Ned too. He called Harleen princess, and told her she was a good girl. He taught her how to ride her bike, and how to fish, and some other stuff that he said was a secret. Harleen didn't always like it, but Uncle Ned said it was important, and she was very lucky, and so she convinced herself she was. He gave her candy bars and other treats afterwards, and told Harleen she was special. Uncle Ned always said it was a secret, because Mommy and Auntie June would get jealous if they knew Harleen and Uncle Ned were playing the special games without them. Harleen was lucky to have an Uncle who loved her so much._

 _As Harleen patted the mud pie together that afternoon, she saw Auntie June getting into her car. She waved goodbye to Harleen, who waved a mud pie in response. The blue car reversed off the driveway and disappeared down the road._

" _Harleen!"_

 _That was Uncle Ned's voice. Harleen got up, padding barefoot back towards the house. It was cool inside, Harley still remembered now the sound of the ceiling fan rotating above her. Uncle Ned laughed when she stepped through the door. "Making mud pies?" He asked._

" _Yes, for Mommy," Harleen replied._

" _She'll be so happy," Uncle Ned smiled. "But it's time to get clean now. I've run a bath, why don't you jump in?"_

 _So Harley did what she was told, and afterwards Uncle Ned wanted to play a new game. This one was different. It was one she hadn't played before and it hurt lots and lots and she was stingy afterwards. When it was over, Uncle Ned told her to hurry up and get dressed. But she wasn't fast enough, and Auntie June got home early._

 _Harleen thought she would get in trouble for keeping secrets. But Auntie June just got her dressed and drove her to Mommy's work. She told Mommy they couldn't look after Harleen anymore, and then she left. Harleen never saw Auntie June or Uncle Ned again._

 _She felt bad, really bad. Without Auntie June or Uncle Ned to look after Harleen, Mommy had to give up her job. She found another one, but she couldn't work as much, so they had to get rid of their house and move into a tiny apartment. Mommy never blamed Harleen, but Harleen never forgave herself. If she'd been faster then it never would've happened!_

* * *

Harleen had never told anyone that story. She felt a tear slide down her cheek, the memory of the guilt and fear and pain rushing back, and hastily wiped it away with the back of her hand. Joker had never taken his eyes off her for the whole story, but his expression was one she could not read. She looked up at him, not daring to speak, to ask if her story had been enough. To be honest, she wasn't sure if she even wanted to continue today. Not after admitting something she had been so ashamed of for so long.

"Ask your question," Joker said at last.

Harley nodded. "You said you and your mom were close, and your dad was around. Why do you say you weren't loved?"

"I was loved by my mom, but when she died that whole thing sorta stopped. You know what death's like Doctor." He grinned a little at his joke, and Harley wondered if that's all she'd get, but he continued. "My father was a drunk, a laggard, and a liar. He was not opposed to using his children to make a few bucks." Joker looked down at the table. Was that shame? If not, it was a good impression of it.

"You told me you had no siblings."

"Not anymore." Joker looked up. "My childhood was not so dissimilar to yours, except it was not a kindly uncle, and I did not have a mother to make it better."

Harley saw, just for a moment, the flicker of the humiliation she had felt as a child on the Joker's porcelain face. She reached out, unable to stop herself, putting a hand on his straitjacketed shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "How did-"

"No Doctor," Joker interrupted flatly. "I think that ends our session for today."

* * *

Harley walked back to her office in somewhat of a daze. Joker was being honest with her. She didn't know how she knew it, but she knew it. He had always told her the truth, and the look on his face was one she knew all too well, it was one she'd seen on her own so many times. The real question was, what was she going to do with this information?

Tell the Warden? So he could what? Add it to Joker's notes? Use it in a speech to the Asylums investors to prove what a great job he was doing? Get famous?

She could publish it and become famous herself? Doctor Harleen Quinzel, the first person to successfully discover information about the Joker's past.

She didn't want to do either of those things. It would be a betrayal. Joker had trusted her with his story (or fragments of it), and she had trusted him with hers. No. She would tell no one. She'd add the information to her private notes, with hopes they would help her understand her patient, but they would never be shared.

There was something else too. She liked the fact it was a secret. It was something the two of them shared, and that made her feel...a feeling she couldn't explain.

Harley realized she had passed her office, and had somehow ended up in the medical building. She glanced at the nearest treatment room window absentmindedly, still unsure what to do next, watching as one of the patients was strapped onto the table. She moved closer to the observation window, watching in horror as one doctor forced the patient, a man in his thirties, to clamp down on a mouth guard. Another doctor moved closer with electrical prongs, holding them on either side of the patient's head. Harley clasped a hand to her mouth, watching as the electrical current surged through the patient's body. He writhed in agony on the table, screaming out despite the mouth guard.

"It's a little shocking, if you pardon the pun, the first time you see it." Harley turned, Warden Sharp stood beside her, watching the patient through the window. "Believe me, I wish there was an alternative."

"I thought this Asylum didn't employ electroshock therapy?" Harley said, turning to Sharp with a fire in her eyes. She was passionately opposed to this kind of 'treatment'. It wasn't treatment at all, just a way to make their patients forget who they were, to try and make them docile and empty.

"Unfortunately it was out of my hands." He didn't look that sorry. "Besides which, for some patients this is likely to be the only course of action with any chance of success. Which leads me to my next question, actually."

"What is it?" Harley asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Are you making any progress with your patient?"

"That depends what you mean by progress," Harley replied, stalling. "I have not come to any conclusions regarding a diagnosis yet, but the patient trusts me, and we have a good relationship."

Warden Sharp seemed to be thinking. "Trust, well that is important I suppose. Don't get me wrong, I hate to rush your work, especially when dealing with a patient who is the psychological equivalent of a brick wall. But have you been able to learn anything of value about him yet?"

Harley didn't answer, what could she say? She didn't want to tell him what she learned today. Joker's confession was not something she wanted to share with the Warden. That was wrong, she knew, but she clutched his secret tightly, unwilling to give it up.

But she also had an idea where this conversation was going, and the dangers of not saying anything.

"Because if not," Sharp continued, "If the patient proves to be unwilling to fully engage in treatment, perhaps electroshock therapy might be the next course of action?"

"Absolutely not." Harley snapped. "My patient will not be subjected to…that!" She pointed at the window, where the man on the bed continued to writhe in pain.

"I understand your hesitation Doctor Quinzel, however if you consider-"

"No. You asked for my opinion Warden Sharp, and I'm giving it. I will not recommend electroshock therapy for the Joker."

Sharp looked rather surprised at her response, at the change in her usually docile temperament, but he simply nodded. "Understood, thank you Doctor Quinzel." He turned and left, and Harley went the other way, storming back towards her office, mind racing.

On her way she collided with a guard, who was coming around the corner. "Sorry!" She practically growled, still angry.

"Don't worry about it," the guard replied. "It was my fault."

Harley shook her head, calming a little. "No, I wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry." She continued on her way, trying to figure out what she would do when the warden inevitably decided her answer wasn't good enough, and signed Joker up for electroshock therapy.

As Harley headed back to her office, she failed to notice that she was being watched. That the guard was observing her every move hungrily. That he was smiling.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hope you like this chapter guys. It's a lot more based on dialogue, as I'm planning the next chapter to be very action based, and needed to get this interaction between H & J done first! Really hope it's not boring and you like where it's heading. **

**Thanks again to all who reviewed, favourited and/or followed the story. I love this community, and it makes me feel so supported as a writer when I see your kind words, so thank you all.**

* * *

"You look busy."

Harley looked up from her desk. It took her a moment to register the face of the man standing in her doorway: it was the guard from yesterday, the one she had practically knocked over as she stormed away from the electroshock therapy room.

"Hello," Harley said politely, not entirely sure what this man was doing in her office. She only had a few minutes before her next session with Joker, and she was trying to get some ideas down on paper. She thought it might be a refreshing change of pace to actually be prepared today.

"This is awkward, isn't it?" The man asked, a shy smile forming on his face. He was attractive: dark hair and eyes, a strong jaw, good teeth. In fact, he was pretty much the epitome of 'classically good-looking', though that had never really been Harley's type.

 _Whoever my type is, he's been pretty well hidden for the past two years._

"I'm James," the guard began, stepping further into the office and reaching out to shake her hand. Harley stood up from her desk and presented her own hand. "Harleen."

"I think the handshake made it even more awkward," James laughed releasing his grip, and Harley had to agree. "A little, yeah. What's up?"

James looked a little nervous. "Oh right, well, this is probably going to make things even more awkward, but I thought 'hey, why not?'" He cleared his throat. "I saw you the other day and I, well, I can't seem to stop thinking about you. Ugh that sounds really creepy now I hear it aloud. But I was just wondering if you wanted to go get a drink after work? With me I mean."

Harley was taken aback. She'd not been asked out in a long time, and certainly not by anyone who looked so...well...normal. The last man to ask her for a drink, she recalled vividly, had a lazy eye and a rather pronounced limp.

 _And he stood me up._

"Oh!" She heard herself say, then kicked herself for sounding so surprised. "I…uh…actually, I can't. I'm busy tonight, I'm seeing a friend."

It wasn't a total lie: she'd be with Sarah after all. But for some reason, despite James' good looks and awkward charm, something didn't feel right. He was persistent though. "Ok, how about tomorrow?"

"I…I'm pretty busy this week," Harley finished lamely.

James smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Message received. He's a lucky guy, whoever he is." Without waiting for her response, James turned and left. Harley dropped onto her chair. Why had she done that? Here was a perfectly nice, perfectly attractive man, asking her casually to go for a drink after work, and she had shot him down. Hadn't she been feeling lately like she needed someone in her life? Someone to look after her and make her feel special? Hadn't she been daydreaming about romance?

 _You don't want him._

There was that voice again, the one in her head. The oh-so honest one who always said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Unfortunately for Harley, the voice had been getting a lot more ballsy recently.

 _He's too safe, too boring. You're looking for excitement._

 _I don't know anything about him, he might be very exciting._

 _Not as exciting as-_

 _LALALALALALA not listening!_

Harley shook away the thought that had almost slithered into her brain right then. She wasn't ready for it, and she'd hold it off for as long as she possibly could. Harley looked at the clock on her wall. Now she was late. But that was good, because it meant there was no more time for errant thoughts, she had a session to get to.

* * *

"I do enjoy your name," Joker drawled.

Harley looked up from her notes. She had just sat down, and in keeping with her desire to run a more organized session, had reached for the list of questions she planned to ask. Of course, somewhere between writing them, and arriving in the therapy room, she had managed to misplace them. She had been hurriedly searching amongst her papers when Joker spoke. She raised an eyebrow. "My name?"

"Harleen Quinzel." He drew it out, savouring ever syllable."A little bit of tinkering and it becomes-"

"Harley Quinn, like the clown. I know."

"I like that."

"I'm sure," Harley smiled.

"You look very nice today Doctor Quinzel, special occasion?"

That put Harley on the back foot. True, she did look different today: her naturally wavy hair was swept to the side, and she had made a conscious effort to wear lipstick, a pearly pink color that complimented her blouse. Her stockings were, for a change, un-laddered, and her pencil skirt accentuated her small waist. She didn't know why she had decided to make an effort today, but she had.

 _You do know…_

"No occasion, Mr Joker, but I appreciate the compliment."

"You're welcome." Joker shifted a little. "Say, would you do something for me Doc?"

"Anythi...I mean...What's that?"

"Take this thing off?" He wriggled a little inside the straitjacket.

Harley raised an eyebrow. "I hardly think that would be sensible Mr Joker."

"Come on sweetheart, you know I won't hurt you." He grinned. "Not unless you ask me to."

"The regulations about you are quite clear-"

"If I'd wanted to hurt you, my dear Harley Quinn, I could've easily broken your delicious little neck when you were in my cell."

Harley did everything she could to ignore the tingle that buzzed through her body when he called her that. She had to be professional. She was professional. She was his doctor, nothing more.

"Even so, the answer has to be no."

Joker looked genuinely deflated, and a big part of Harley hated herself for not doing what he asked. All at once he looked like a child who had been denied the balloon he so desperately wanted, and she longed to give him a hug. To stroke his green hair and tell him she was sorry.

But that would be ridiculous.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about today?" Harley asked tentatively. Joker didn't reply, and she felt her stomach sink. Had she lost him for today? For longer? Why did she have to be such a coward? Why did she have to be such a stickler for the rules?

Then she had an idea. There was one thing that was sure to get Joker talking. One thing he was all too happy to make jokes about. Something that he knew embarrassed her.

Harley cleared her throat, and tried to sound confident. "What turns you on, sexually?"

Joker's eyes snapped her way, a smile playing on his painted lips. "Why Doctor Quinzel, what line of questioning is this?"

"A very valid one," Harley tried to look professional. "I need to know what makes you tick, I need to understand all aspects of your life and personality. Sexuality is a huge part of our identities, I'd like to know about yours."

The stuff she said was true, but her motivations were not entirely professional. A big part of her just wanted to get him talking again.

A bigger part of her was curious.

Joker leaned back, watching her, but he still didn't speak.

"Don't you want to play one of your games?" Harley could hear the pleading tone to her voice, and was embarrassed. But she couldn't bear to end the session like this. Finally, Joker spoke. "Ok, something new. This time, I'll answer your questions, but only the ones you yourself are willing to answer."

Harley considered: so everything she asked him, she had to be willing to reveal about herself? It was a good idea, he knew she wouldn't want to give away too much, so she couldn't ask him anything too personal. But maybe he didn't know her that well?

"Ok." Harley agreed.

"Good," Joker grinned. "Oh this is gonna be such fun Doc."

* * *

Harley took a breath, unconsciously biting her lip as she thought. Joker's cold eyes were somehow alive with fire, and watched her hungrily. She decided to start with an easy one.

"Are you sexually active Mr Joker?"

"You first."

"No. Not at the moment. Not for a while."

"Why is that?"

Harley shook her finger playfully. "You know those aren't the rules Mr Joker. If you want to ask me a question, you need to answer it first." Her tone was far too flirtatious, but Joker's grin widened, and she knew she had won him back. When he spoke is voice was almost playful. "You catch on fast Doc. Ok, well as you can imagine it's hard to meet people in an asylum when you're kept in solitude." He paused, staring her down. "Or at least it _was_." Harley tried to ignore the tingling again. Joker continued. "So no, I'm not currently sleeping with anyone, and the reason for me, is being locked up in this place. What is your excuse?"

Harley shrugged. "I'm not in a relationship, and I haven't been for a while. I've been busy, and I keep meeting the wrong guys." She considered her next question. "What sexuality do you identify with?"

Joker nodded at her, and she remembered she needed to answer first. "I've only ever been with men, but I don't feel like you have to fit into one category. I've been attracted to women in the past, and I think you like who you like, you don't need to assign yourself a label."

"Yet you ask me to do just that?"

"Good point, but I answered, so it's your turn."

"I am only interested in women, Doctor Quinzel." He was looking at her hungrily. She wondered if he was getting ideas. Maybe she should stop? That might be the most professional thing to do…

"Have you had many lovers? I've had three."

"So innocent," Joker grinned. "I am less so, and I'm afraid I can't give a number. It's hard to remember which liaisons are real, and which ones I have made up. All I can say with certainty, sweetheart, is that it is more than three."

"What turns you on in a sexual partner?" Harley gulped, she wanted to know his answer, but wasn't exactly thrilled at sharing her own. But it's not like she could lie: he always knew. Joker leaned in, ready to lap up the information.

"I'm embarrassed," Harley admitted, shocked to hear how playful and girly she sounded. Joker seemed to enjoy this tone. "And I'm intrigued, tell tell tell."

"I like….I like…" Harley took a deep breath, she decided to just go for it. She kept her eyes on the table. "I like a man to take charge. I like a man who's strong and assertive, who can tell me what to do and look after me. I like to feel safe." She smiled to herself. "And a sense of humor. I like a man who can make me laugh."

"What does he look like, this hunk of a man?"

"That doesn't matter, not really. I don't really have a 'type', he just has to be….I don't know. He just needs to have something about him."

She chanced a look up. Joker was leaning back now, eyes closed, as if he was savoring the information. Harley cleared her throat. "Your turn."

Joker opened his eyes, leaning forwards once more. "Well Doc, looks like we're two peas in a pod. I like a strong woman."

Why did Harley feel disheartened at that?

"You like to be dominated?"

Joker laughed, a short blast of laughter as he shook his head. "No. Just because I like a strong woman, doesn't mean I like that. Quite the opposite."

"I'm not sure I understand-"

Joker leaned closer, so quickly it made Harley jump a little. He whispered now. "You wanna know what turns me on, Doc? The idea of a strong, beautiful woman doing exactly what I tell her. She belongs to me. I tell her what to do and how to do it, and she loves it."

Harley gulped. Why was she biting her lip again? "What does she look like?" She whispered.

"Oh, she's perfection Doc. A vision of loveliness. And the best part is, she has no fucking clue!" He yelled the last part, making Harley jump back. She could see where this was going, and it scared her. What was she getting herself into? Why was she encouraging this?

"But she will, she'll know soon enough," Joker continued. "I've got a plan for her."

Harley was frightened. And excited. And that frightened her more.

"I'm not sure this is appropriate Mr Jok-"

"Come on Doc, don't play coy. Give me something here, how 'bout a little kiss on the cheek?" Joker's grin widened.

Harley felt her face flush. "What? No I can't."

"You wanna do something more exciting? I'm game for that, just free up my hands. I'll make you feel good in places you didn't even know you had." His voice was almost gentle now, and Harley felt like her skin was on fire: a mixture of embarrassment and something else. Joker continued. "You don't even have to untie me, I'll still find a way to make you purr." He waggled his tongue at her.

"We should stop this session, things are getting-"

"Why? It's not like your boyfriend is going to get jealous."

Harley suddenly found herself becoming defensive. "How do you know I don't have a boyfriend?"

"You told me yourself, you're not in a relationship, and you're not fucking anyone. Yet."

"So what? That doesn't mean I'm not dating."

What was that? Did he flinch when she said those words? Whatever happened, it was over in a second, and Joker's face was deadpan. "You're not dating," he growled.

"You don't know that." Harley was getting feisty now. How dare he make assumptions about her? He didn't know her!

"You're not." He was insisting, it was an order.

"Actually I am." The lie was out of her mouth before she could even stop it, but she couldn't take it back now. It was too late, and Joker's face had already hardened.

"That's why you're dressed up?"

Harley jumped on it. "Yes. We're going for a drink after work."

"Who?" He asked.

"I don't think that's any of your business Mr Joker."

"I don't believe you." He sounded like a petulant child now.

"Well that doesn't really matter."

Joker stared at her, his eyes boring into her skull. It was Harley who broke eye contact first, looking down at her lap.

"It won't last." Joker's voice dripped with condescension.

Harley felt her skin prickle again. "Oh, and why's that?" She was trying to sound professional, but it wasn't working.

"Because you don't want it to. Because you're sick of your boring little life. Because you want to find someone you can't predict. Because you'll find a way to ruin it." His eyes were crazy now, and he moved his head erratically as he spoke.

Harley scowled, getting to her feet. "I think our session is over Mr Joker."

Joker sat back against the chair. "Have a pleasant evening _Doctor_."

* * *

Harley stormed out of the therapy room. She was furious. How dare the clown talk about her like he knew her? How dare he suggest her life was boring!

 _Well it is._

 _That's not the point. He has no right to say it!_

 _You spend your days dissecting every element of his life, why shouldn't he do the same to you?_

 _Because I'm not a psychopath!_

 _No, but your life_ is _fucking boring. At least he has fun._

Harley threw herself into her office, just wanting her inner monologue to give it a rest. Then she realized, there was only one way she would prove Joker wrong, prove herself wrong. She got to her feet and headed back out of the room.

It took her twenty minutes, but she eventually found James by the checkpoint for maximum security.

"Hi," he said, smiling as she approached.

"Hey," Harley was breathless from her search. "What you asked me earlier, do you still want to go for a drink?"

James looked surprised. "Uh, yeah. Yeah that sounds great!"

"Ok, I finish at six."

"Me too, meet you in the parking lot?"

Harley nodded. "Sounds great, I'll see you then."

She glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening. Joker was being led towards the door. He wasn't on his prisoner transport gurney anymore, it looked like they'd stopped using that, now he was walking with a guard on each side. One of them was Frank Bowles. Joker was still in the straitjacket.

"Clown's had his therapy and his outdoor time, so it's back to his cell," Bowles said to James. Harley purposefully didn't look at Joker as he approached, but she knew he was watching her.

"Ok, let me open up," James replied, pressing the button to unlock the door.

Harley acted on impulse, putting her hand playfully on James' arm. "I'll see you later, can't wait," she smiled her widest smile. Her eyes flicked to Joker, who stared at the both of them wearing an expression she couldn't read. She looked back at James, smiled again, and walked away. She knew the pair of them were watching her: the handsome guard and the crazy clown.

One wanted to have her. One wanted to hurt her.

Soon enough, she would find out which was which.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi guys, much longer chapter than usual today. Hopefully it doesn't feel too long or drag in any way, I just had a lot I wanted to cover! Really hope you like this one, and I'm hoping I got the mood right in the last part.**

 **As always, thank you so much for your kind reviews, follows, and favourites. I can't believe I've had 7000 views of this story so far: that literally makes me feel so lucky. I love writing this story, and am looking forward to seeing where it goes now.**

* * *

"You look great."

Harley sighed, looking at herself in the full length mirror once more. She didn't _feel_ great. Sarah had been helping her decide on an outfit for her date for the last half hour. Harley was borrowing something of Sarah's, seeing as she was still staying with her, and she hadn't packed any clothes that were 'date appropriate' (because Harley hadn't been on a date in…well, she couldn't exactly remember).

Her drinks with James the day before had been pleasant enough: they had laughed, talked, and had a normal, enjoyable evening. He had asked her out for dinner the next day (Saturday), and she had agreed. What was the harm?

Here was the harm: she had nothing to wear, couldn't get her hair to do what she wanted, and was generally a train wreck in terms of organisation. She sighed again. There was also the _big_ problem, the thing gnawing away in the back of her mind, the thing she wasn't ready to deal with yet.

 _Just admit it, you have a cru-_

Harley shook her head. No. Now was not the time.

There was a knock at the door. Sarah practically jumped out of her skin. "Sorry," she muttered, trying to regain her composure. Harley felt so sorry for her friend, would she ever be able to answer the door without being terrified it was Zsasz?

"I'll get it," Harley said, moving to the door. It was James.

"Hi," he grinned. "Sorry I'm early."

"That's ok," Harley smiled. "Let me get my coat."

"This was on your mat." James held out a brown envelope. Harley took it, it had Sarah's name on the front, but no address, and she recognised the cursive writing immediately. Her stomach felt like it had fallen to her toes.

 _Why is Joker writing to Sarah?_

"What's that?" Sarah asked, coming over. Harley handed her the envelope. Sarah glanced at the front casually, before putting it down on the table. "Have fun you two!" She said cheerfully to James and Harley.

Harley's heart raced. "So what is it?"

Sarah looked confused, "What?"

"In the envelope."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Well I don't know, I haven't opened it yet." She grinned, "I'll teach you later how letters work."

Harley wanted to tell her to open it. Or better yet, to burn it: just throw it away. Surely nothing good could come of this? But there was nothing she could do, it's not like she could admit that Joker had written to her, had sent things to her, before. So Harley picked up her coat, smiled weakly at her friend, and headed out of the door with James.

* * *

It was eight o'clock, and the date was going ok. Harley wished it was more than that. She so wanted to be excited about having dinner with an attractive, nice, normal guy, but she just wasn't. It wasn't just Sarah's mysterious envelope that was distracting her (though it was certainly not helping things, in fact it was driving her crazy), it was just that there was nothing about James that made her particularly excited.

Something was different tonight as well. Last night he had seemed interesting, clever, and witty. Tonight, she realised his stories were all pretty much the same, his knowledge had mostly been gleaned from stuff he'd read online, and his jokes were often downright misogynistic. He was at least never short of a conversation starter, which was particularly useful, as she didn't really have a lot to bring to the table.

In fact, at that moment, while James explained the importance of children having a mother at home rather than at work, she was still trying to decide how best to get the envelope away without Sarah becoming suspicious.

"It just doesn't make sense, not genetically," James continued, waving his fork around as he spoke. "Women's bodies are designed to give birth and raise young, it's just not something men are meant to do. Women are literally designed to be at home with the children. I just don't understand women who are happy to abandon their children and get a job, when it's just not what their bodies were built for!"

Harley tried to look like she at least respected his opinion, when in reality she thought it was a completely idiotic non-point. "I see what you're getting at, but there's nothing to suggest you can't work _and_ be a good mother at the same time."

James looked at her as though she was a child who had just tried to understand a complicated subject and missed the point entirely. "I'm not sure that's right, how can a woman do both of those things to the best of her ability?" He grinned, "I know women are meant to be great at 'multitasking', but that doesn't mean things don't slip through the net." He continued to blather on, and Harley just decided to tune him out. She'd be skipping desert, she just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

* * *

She let James continue to talk until dinner came to a close. As the waiter arrived with the bill, James waved away Harley's money. "No, no. Let me."

"Why don't we split it?" She offered, feeling guilty letting him pay when she knew she wasn't interested in another date.

James shook his head. "No woman ever has to pay for her food when she's out with me."

Harley imagined he was trying to be charming and chivalrous, but for some reason it made her skin crawl. She was perfectly able to pay her own way, and didn't like to be referred to as though she were one of many women James trotted out and paid for. But she just smiled, putting her purse away. The quicker this date would be over the better. Drinks had been fine, but this was just too much: there was no chemistry here, and it was better to just get it done. Harley would just chalk it up to life experience and bad luck, then do the adult thing and pretend to have diarrhoea the next time he tried to ask her out.

James shared the cab ride home with Harley, and unfortunately, decided to get out and walk her to the door. Harley insisted it wasn't necessary, but James was not a man who could be argued with. "Now come on Harleen, you read the papers recently? There's a killer on the loose, and I'm not sure the Batman comes out this far. A nice young lady like you needs someone to protect her."

Harley tried not to grit her teeth at that, and just smiled again. _How could I get someone so wrong?_ She thought, still kicking herself for the way she acted around James down in maximum security: practically throwing herself at him. Why did she even do that?

 _You know why…_

James didn't just walk her to the door of Sarah's apartment block, he insisted on walking her right to the front door, which meant an incredibly awkward elevator ride. Harley knew where this was going. She had left their date last night with just a friendly hug, but James was definitely angling for more tonight, and she wasn't game.

"Well, goodnight," Harley smiled, hurriedly putting her key in the lock.

"Not so fast there," James said, playfully taking her hand, more roughly than she would've liked. "Anyone would think you were trying to escape."

Harley smiled again, and it was starting to make her face hurt. "No, I'm just, just tired."

"Fair enough," James replied, though she wasn't sure he believed her. "I was worried: after I pay for a lady's dinner I like to make my money back."

Harley was confused. "Oh, right." She reached for her purse, but that wasn't what he meant. James took her cheeks in both hands and pressed his lips against hers. Perhaps it was meant to be passionate, but Harley wasn't expecting it, and she pulled away firmly. James looked a little surprised, then he smiled. "Hard to get, I like that."

Harley wanted to punch the guy square in the face, to tell him she'd rather lick a trash can before going on another date with him. She was just wondering if there was a more polite way to say: "I'd have more fun pleasuring myself with a razor blade than going on another date with you", when the door swung open. Sarah was there, tears fresh on her cheeks.

"Harleen! I'm so glad you're home!"

"Sarah are you ok?"

"Definitely not."

Harley didn't say goodbye to James, she just slipped inside, closing the door gently on him. "What happened?" Harley asked, noting the ripped open envelope on the coffee table. Her heart began to hammer in her chest. Sarah turned around, and Harley realized they weren't tears of sadness, fear, or revulsion, but tears of happy shock. "Something amazing!" Sarah beamed. She handed some papers to Harley who glanced over them quickly. They were plane tickets to Australia! Paid for and with a departure date of Monday morning.

"Who?" Harley began, but then remembered that of course she knew the answer.

"No idea!" Sarah babbled, "But to be honest, I don't care. It just says it's a donation, to help with my recovery. Maybe it's people at work? That's not important, it means I can see my mom!" Sarah's mom emigrated years ago, and Sarah saw her a couple of times a year if that. Harley knew how much it meant to her to go and see her mom, especially now.

 _How did he know?_

"You're welcome to stay here while I'm gone," Sarah said as she moved around the apartment, throwing things into a suitcase on the couch. She had a spring in her step, and couldn't stop smiling.

Harley shook her head. "No, I should go home. It's time for me to get back to reality."

* * *

"How did you know?" Harley asked, as she sat across from Joker on Monday morning.

Joker grinned. "I know everything there is to know about you Doc, you should understand that by now."

"I never told you about Sarah's mom. I definitely didn't tell you where she lived. Do you have someone watching me?"

"I'd watch you myself, in fact, I'd enjoy it very much. But I can't."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Then answer mine."

"I'm not telling you about my date Mr Joker." They'd started their session only five minutes ago, and he'd asked her about the date, in a variety of ways, at least four times.

Joker raised an eyebrow. "You know by not telling me, you're already telling me all I need to know."

"Then why ask?"

"I want to hear you say it."

Harley was getting frustrated. "You want to hear me say it was terrible? That we had nothing in common? That I spent the whole evening worrying about whether you'd sent my friend a body part?"

Joker smiled. "I wouldn't do that."

"You sent me one!"

"Because you earned it: I got it for you. She hasn't earned it."

"So you expect me to be grateful?"

"I expect nothing from you except your honesty sweetheart, as always." He leaned against there table. "Now tell me about your date. It didn't go well?"

Harley was defeated, how could she be mad with him anyhow? He had done a wonderful thing for her best friend. Yeah, it was creepy that he knew what she wanted and where she lived, but the gesture was actually sweet and sincere. Plus, it was hard to be mad at someone who fascinated her so much. She liked talking to him, she didn't want to waste their session together being mad. "No," she admitted. "It was terrible. He seemed nice at first, but some of the things he said were actually really rude, and weird."

"A weirdo, what a turn-off." Joker grinned, and Harley's face cracked into a smile.

"Like I said, he was just saying some odd stuff."

"Such as?"

"His views about women, for one thing, they were so outdated. Then he paid for dinner-"

"What a jerk," Joker's voice dripped with sarcasm, and Harley couldn't help but smile.

"But it wasn't a nice gesture, it was a way of making sure I 'owed' him. He kissed me at the door and-"

"He kissed you?" Joker's face was no longer playful. It had hardened, and his tone was angry.

"Yes." Harley's tone was gentle, as if she were explaining herself to a jealous boyfriend. "But I pushed him away."

Joker's expression flickered, and she wondered if he would smile. He didn't. "Good."

"Not really," Harley sighed. "I don't think it helped, he just seemed to think I was playing hard to get."

Joker finally cracked a small smile now. "He sounds like a real catch Doc."

"Oh shut up," Harley teased. "You made me do it."

Joker raised an eyebrow. "How's that?"

"You were the one saying I didn't date or couldn't date. You backed me into a corner and you know it."

Joker pondered for a moment. "So you were trying to make me jealous Doctor Quinzel?"

Harley's face flushed. "No, I didn't say that-"

"Well I'm flattered."

"I didn't say that!" But it was no use lying, he always knew anyway. Luckily Joker didn't push the subject any more. He moved on to something equally frustrating.

"What's say we untie my hands?"

The rest of the session passed quickly. After explaining several more times that she could not, in fact, allow him to remove his straitjacket, they talked a little more about her disastrous date, and Joker was then taken back to his cell.

* * *

Harley spent the rest of the day finishing paperwork in her office, and trying to sort through the reams of papers left over from her office's previous inhabitant. She didn't know who this mysterious doctor was, but their filing system seemed to be based on complicated color-coding, combined with putting the patients in order from most to least attractive. When Harley finally looked up at the time she realized it was eight o'clock, and she should have left two hours ago.

 _Don't sweat it too much Harls, it's not like you're late for your hectic social life._

That was true enough. Her plans for this evening involved going back to her apartment, ordering Chinese food, and seeing if she could beat her personal best of fitting 4 prawn crackers in her mouth at once. Yes, wild times were ahead.

The asylum was quiet, and Harley was about to head to her car when she remembered she had sent some important documents to print at the only working printer in the asylum: over in the penitentiary/patient living quarters. She headed over quickly, overjoyed to find that it was once again pouring with rain outside. Harley arrived in the penitentiary soaking wet, and hurried to the desk. No one was there. There were night staff who worked when everyone else went home, but their numbers were few, and she wasn't surprised to find herself alone. Harley grabbed her paperwork from the printer, and was about to head out when she heard someone call her name. She turned, it was James. "Harleen! Great timing, could you give me a hand with this?"

Harley tried not to look too unenthusiastic. She nodded at the papers in her hands, "I'm in a bit of a hurry" she lied, "Can it wait until tomorrow?"

James shook his head. "No, there's something you need to see. We need a Doctor's help." He turned and hurried in the other direction. Harley sighed, if a Doctor was needed she had to go, it was her duty. She put the papers down on the desk and hurried after him. She caught up to James in the same hallway she recognized from Joker's assault tape. "What is it?" She asked.

"It's easier to just show you," James replied, pointing to the showers. "In there." Harley wanted to ask more, but James headed inside. Harley followed. She found herself in a large tiled room, with shower heads lining the walls. There was a short wall separating each shower cubicle, which could be made more private by pulling across a shower curtain. Harley looked around. They were alone in the dimly lit room.

"Wha-" She didn't get to finish, as James pushed her roughly against the wall, forcing his lips onto hers again. She was in shock for a moment, then pushed him away, but he was grinning. "I have to say Harleen, as much as I like the hard to get thing, it's time we got serious. We both know where this is going."

Harley shook her head. "You've got the wrong idea, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."

James' smile flickered but didn't disappear. He just moved closer. Harley made to leave, but he grabbed both of her wrists roughly, pushing her against the hard wall. Harley cried out, pain coursing through her back and head where they had collided against the hard tiles.

"No, I think you're the one who doesn't understand." James leaned in closer to her, his hot breath on her face. "I always get what I want Harleen. And what I want is you. I took you out, paid for your meal and your drinks. I showed you a good time. Now we can do this your way or mine, and trust me, mine is nicer."

Harley tried to push him away, but he was too strong. James grinned again. "Your way it is." He threw her against the wall, causing her to cry out again. Her head was pounding now, and she felt dizzy. James was kissing her neck, horrible wet slurps across her skin. Pushing him away hadn't worked, so Harley did the only other thing she could think of: she kicked him, hard, between the legs.

James screamed out in pain, and loosened his grip. Harley made a break for the door, but James was quick, and caught her by the hair. Harley screamed now. "HELP!" James pulled her roughly by the hair, then struck her across the face. He threw Harley onto the floor, positioning himself on top of her. His eyes were wild, and Harley wondered if he would let her go even after he did what he wanted. She fought as much as she could, but he had her pinned. He was reaching for something, and suddenly Harley saw his electronic baton.

"Scream again, and I'll shove this up inside you and turn it on." He grinned, and she knew he meant it. She kept quiet. James nodded, breathing heavily. "Good. Now take off your panties."

Harley was frightened. She wanted to fight, wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She felt blood on her face, and realized her nose was bleeding. Slowly, she reached up under her skirt and pulled her panties down. James took them, pushing them to his nose and inhaling deeply. Harley felt sick. He put her panties into his pocket. "Stand up," he grunted. Harley did what he said. "Over there." He pointed with the baton to the nearest shower cubicle. She walked over and got inside. James followed her.

"Lift your skirt up."

The blood from her nose was dripping onto her white blouse. One of her nails had broken. Her head hurt. These were the things Harley thought of while she did what he asked. But before James could do anything else there was a sound. Someone was coming to the showers!

Harley wanted to scream, but James clasped a hand over her mouth, the baton just inches from her eyes. He pulled the curtain across, hiding the two of them from view, then sank down onto the shower floor with her. She heard someone enter the room. Or was it two people?

"Ten minutes." Someone (a guard?) said.

No response from the other person, but Harley could see the shape of him moving to a cubicle. She heard the shower turn on.

Harley didn't know how long she sat there, with James' hand over her mouth, watching the blood from her nose drip down onto his hand. She could feel his heart against her back. Was his adrenaline wearing off? Had he realised yet what an absolutely stupid thing he was doing? She wanted to pull her skirt back down, she felt humiliated sitting there on his lap with it up around her stomach, but she knew he wouldn't let her move.

The shower turned off. Whoever was inside it had finished and would soon be leaving. Harley had to make a choice: scream, be heard by the patient (whoever that was), and hopefully his guard, but risk James hurting her before they can help her.

Or do nothing, and let James do what he wanted. Maybe it would be quick.

She made her choice. Harley bit down on James' fingers, tasting his own blood as it mingled with her own. He screamed, and so did she.

"HELP ME!"

James pushed her roughly over, and she hit her head again on the tiled wall. James jumped to his feet, but as he made to wrench open the shower curtain, someone else did it from the other side.

Harley's vision was blurry, but she didn't need 20:20 to recognise the green hair and porcelain skin. Joker wore his baggy orange pants, the same ones all maximum security patients wore, but no shirt. So much of his skin was covered in tattoos, but everything was fuzzy, so she couldn't see what they were.

Joker looked at James, then at Harley, then back at James. A deep, angry, guttural sound escaped his throat, and he grabbed James by the collar. Joker was handcuffed, but it didn't matter, he threw James down onto the floor so roughly she was sure he cracked the tiles. The other guard was approaching, baton raised, but Joker moved quickly, slamming him against the wall, head butting him, and knocking him to the ground. James got back up, but Joker was too fast: he kicked him repeatedly, knocking him back and back, until he was on the floor again. The guard got up, and Joker turned to him, fire in his eyes.

"Don't!" Harley cried, with as much energy as she could muster. The guard hadn't hurt her, Joker mustn't kill him. Joker growled. He punched the guard, but only once, and as he fell to the floor Harley could see he had been knocked out.

"What about him?" Joker breathed, turning around and looking down at James. She had never seen so much fury on his face before and it scared her. She looked at James, saw a flash of the material of her panties in his pocket. Thought of all the other women he had bought dinner for. The other women he had 'looked after'.

Harley nodded her head, just once. An action so simple, but it was enough. Joker smiled, then set to work on James. He kicked him over and over until he stopped groaning, until he stopped fighting, until he stopped breathing. Then Joker stopped. He was barely out of breath.

He stalked over to Harley, and automatically she recoiled. But Joker simply reached out a hand, which she took gratefully. He pulled her to her feet, looking her up and down. Gently, carefully, he pulled her skirt down, giving her back her modesty. He didn't say anything, and neither did she, but she flung her arms around his muscular shoulders, resting her head against his chest. Joker shuffled slightly, bringing his handcuffed arms up and over her, encasing her against his body. She couldn't remember a time she had felt safer. Joker's arms were muscular, his chest strong, and she fit perfectly against him.

They stayed like that for several moments. Then Joker whispered in her ear: "You need to go."

Harley looked up at him, only just realising she had been crying. "What?"

"Before more guards come. If they think you were involved they'll put a stop to our little chats."

Harley shook her head. "But, you saved me. I can explain."

Joker released her from his arms. "Do what I say sweetheart. I'm happy to kill for you, hell it was sorta fun, but I'm not gonna give up my favourite doctor. Go."

Harley didn't want to, but he was right. She couldn't risk Sharp releasing Joker from her care. Not now.

Not when she finally understood.

She was falling in love with the Joker.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi guys, another short chapter today, but the next one will be longer, I promise. I hope you like this one, some of the information in it is taken from 'The Killing Joke', a brilliant graphic novel which details the Joker's past (though of course so much of that is subjective). I don't usually read graphic novels, but if you're interested in Joker I really reccomend it.**

 **Hope you like the chapter, thank you so much to all of you for your support and kind words, you're all amazing, and have no idea how much it means to me to know you're reading and enjoying the story. I'm already working on the next chapter now, so should hopefully be posted very soon (I'd love to say it'll be tonight, but I need to leave time to reread, so can't guarantee that!)**

* * *

Harley wasn't sure how she made it home that night. Leaving the penitentiary as the alarms began to sound, finding her car, driving home, it was all a blur. But somehow she got there. Harley entered her apartment, not even thinking about the blood on the floor, or the general disarray left behind after Zsasz' visit. She simply walked to her couch and dropped down onto it. She stared blankly at the space in front of her for the longest time, barely noticing that she was sitting in the dark.

 _I'm falling in love with The Joker. With the most dangerous man in Gotham. With a man who enjoys nothing more than chaos and destruction. With a man who as already assaulted or killed numerous people since I met him._

 _With the man who saved my life._

It was that thought, that one thread of positivity, that kept Harley sane. This man, so feared and hated, had saved her life tonight, and it wasn't the first time. How many times had he saved her, or done something kind for her? That wasn't the same man she had read so many horror stories about. Harley reached over and turned on the lamp, filling her apartment with a warm glow. Her thoughts were a tangle, so she would do what she always did when she felt overwhelmed: write a list. Pros and cons of the Joker. She wasn't sure what the point of it was: it wasn't like she could date him, the idea was absurd. He was locked away for 23 hours a day for a start, let alone everything else that was wrong with the idea! But she grabbed a notepad from her coffee table and began writing anyway.

 _Pro: He saved me from James._

 _Con: He's insane._

 _Pro: He didn't hurt me down in max._

 _Con: He's_ _insane_ _(surely that should be on there more than once?)._

 _Pro: He sent Sarah to see her mom._

 _Con: He sent me a tongue._

 _Pro: He took the tongue because Jeremy was an asshole._

 _Con:_ _That's_ _insane._

 _Pro: His body is incredible._

Harley scratched out that last one, berating herself for putting it on the list. Even though it was true.

 _Pro: He cares about me._

 _Con: He's an expert liar._

Harley sighed, screwing up the paper. This wasn't working, she didn't feel any more in control of her thoughts than she had been when she was driving home, and now she couldn't stop thinking of Joker's muscular arms. How good they had felt wrapped around her…

Harley shook her head. She needed to sleep, to forget everything just for a few hours. She padded to her bedroom, ignoring the fact that the sheets were still crumpled from when Sarah had been tied up and left there. Ignoring the duct tape on the floor. Harley climbed in to bed and curled up, wishing that her life would just go back to the boring, normal way it used to be.

* * *

Harley had no idea how she had managed not only to sleep, but to oversleep. When she woke up and realized she had just ten minutes to get ready and be out of the door, she sprung into action. She threw on the first clothes she could find, ran a brush through her hair, slapped on some make-up, and sprinted out of the door and to the car.

She arrived at work ten minutes late for her session with Joker, but that wasn't so bad. At least it meant she didn't have to listen to the staff gossiping in the break room about what had happened to James. She'd heard his name whispered everywhere she went, unsure which voices were real and which were in her head. She couldn't wait to be back in a room with Joker, where things just seemed to make so much more sense.

Harley power walked down the corridor, hearing snippets of conversations as she went. It was interesting to see how opinions differed between men and women.

"Such a tragedy, he was a great guy." Male guard.

"I heard Joker made him eat his own fingers. Fuckin' psycho." Male guard.

"Well, it's terrible, but that guy was a little creepy." Female doctor.

"I'm glad he's dead." Female doctor.

"Joker should pay for this." Male doctor.

"I would've loved to have seen it." Female guard.

* * *

Joker was waiting for her, his back to the door as usual, when she entered the therapy room. Harley's heels click clacked along the floor, and she noticed the way he tensed when he heard her approach.

"Good morning Mr Joker," Harley began as she sat down. "I thought we-" She was stopped in her tracks. Joker looked a mess. His left eye was black, he had a split lip, and there was a large gash on his forehead, which almost certainly needed stitches. He looked exhausted, and possibly even drugged, but still watched her with the same intense expression.

"Morning Doctor," He said in his usual drawl.

"What…what happened?" She breathed.

Joker shrugged inside his straitjacket. "A couple of the guards weren't too happy about what I did to your beau. Then a couple more arrived, and they really weren't happy. But they were nothing compared to the last two, who were downright furious."

"They did this to you? Six of them?" Harley didn't know why she sounded so shocked, she had seen the guards beat Joker before. But this time was so much worse, and it felt even crueler now she had finally accepted her feelings.

 _Yes I've accepted them, but I'm not acting on them._

But today Harley wasn't listening to the voice in her head. She got to her feet without another word, heading out of the room.

"Everything ok doc?" Frank Bowles asked. He got up from the table where he had been sitting alone and reading (though that word might be too generous) what was quite clearly a pornographic magazine. He saw Harley looking, but didn't attempt to cover it.

"Everything's fine," Harley muttered. "Give me your handcuffs."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I need to examine my patient out of the straitjacket. Give them to me."

Frank's eyes widened. "You kidding me? Did you hear what he did last night?"

"Yes. Give them to me."

Frank shook his head. "No way lady, I don't care if you got a death wish, you're not taking that guy out of the jacket, and neither am I. Fuckin' clown can live in it for all I care."

Harley stepped closer, her tone threatening. "Listen to me you waste of oxygen. You're gonna give me those handcuffs, and then you're gonna let me get on with my work. You know why? Because if you don't, I'll tell the Warden the truth about what happened down in max." Her voice had lost the clipped, professional tone she used at work, and her old accent was starting to creep in. She thought she'd stomped that out years ago?

Frank looked scared, but he wasn't giving up easy. "And what's the truth?"

"That you and your idiot friends left me down there to die."

"You can't prove-"

"Who do you think he'll believe? Me, the sweet, efficient Doctor? Or you? The drunk pervert-guard?" Harley's voice was stronger than she'd ever heard it, and Bowles looked genuinely worried. He reached for the handcuffs on his belt, unclipping them and dropping them into her hands.

"He attacks you, that's your fault lady. We can't see what happens in there."

It was a threat: he wouldn't help her if Joker tried to kill her. Harley tried to look strong.

"Fine." She turned on her heel, heading back into the room.

"Bitch,"Frank muttered.

"Doctor Quinzel, I thought you'd walked out on me."

Harley walked round, standing behind her chair and holding up the handcuffs. Joker raised an eyebrow. "Now you're talking, I knew you'd be into the kinky stuff."

Harley tried to look stern, but something about Joker's ridiculous sense of humor always made her want to smile. "This is serious," she began. "I'm going take you out of that straitjacket, and put these cuffs on you."

Joker looked surprised, but said nothing.

Harley continued. "You're going to let me put them on without trying anything. I'm trusting you, please don't make me regret that." Joker still didn't reply, but he slowly nodded. Just once.

Harley took that as his assent, so stepped around the table and stood behind him. She took a deep breath. Was this the biggest mistake she would ever make? Slowly, she began to untie the straitjacket, watching it loosen around Joker's upper body. She had never used one of these before, and felt her stomach drop when suddenly it fell away from Joker, leaving him completely unrestrained. Her heart began to hammer. He turned his head, then got to his feet, standing in front of her. He was wearing his orange pants and a white vest. She could see the bruises up his arms, but wasn't thinking about that right now. She was wondering if this would be the last thing she saw. Joker was taller than her, and looked down at her hungrily. Harley took a breath. Then, incredibly, Joker held out his arms, ready to be handcuffed. Harley clumsily clicked them on, sparks flying through her fingers when her skin made contact with his. Did he feel it too?

Without a word Joker turned, sitting back down in his chair. Harley followed suit, taking her place opposite him. Joker put his cuffed hands on the table.

"Thank you," Harley breathed, her heart rate slowly returning to normal. .

He nodded once more.

Harley smiled, finally taking the chance to check his body. His face was bad, but his body was worse: arms covered in bruises and cuts. And could she see more on his chest.

"Lift your shirt up," she said.

"You first."

"Very funny," Harley replied, rolling her eyes. "Let me see what they did." Joker sighed, lifting the white vest. She gasped, his stomach was virtually black from the bruising. She could hardly see most of the tattoos she had noticed last night, though even black and blue, she had to admire his toned, muscular torso.

 _Not now Harley!_

Harley shook her head. "I can't believe they did that to you."

Joker pulled his vest back down. "Really? I killed one of their guards sweetheart, it was only fair they got even."

"All of them against you, doesn't seem very fair to me." Harley sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn't change that now.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine." Joker leaned forwards. "Are you?"

Harley tried to answer, but realized she didn't have the words. She shrugged. "You know…"

"Yeah, I do."

And for a moment, she knew he understood exactly how she felt. She knew he cared. But then the walls came back up, and he changed the subject. "So, I have to wonder, do you want to die Doctor Quinzel?"

Harley was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"You saw me kill an armed man, and knock out another last night, with my hands cuffed just like this." He waggled his hands on the table. "What makes you think I won't do the same to you?"

"For what purpose?" Harley reposted. "The guards would shoot you as soon as you tried to leave the room. You couldn't escape."

"Maybe it's not about escape, maybe it's about what's fun. Do you remember that Doc? Fun? When was the last time you really let loose?"

"When you sent me to that free-running club. That was fun. But the evening, not so much."

A smile flickered on Joker's lips. "You didn't enjoy any of your time with Zsasz? Not even when you stabbed him over and over again? Didn't it make you feel strong?"

"We've talked about that night before Mr Joker. I thought you didn't like boring questions?"

"My original question still stands then, why do you think I won't kill you right now?"

Harley looked him straight in the eye. "Because I trust you." She'd told him that earlier, but now it somehow felt even more true. "You won't hurt me. You never have." Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, Harley slowly reached out across the table. Her fingertips met his, and there it was, the spark again. Joker closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. She wondered if that was a response to her, or just to being touched.

"Thank you," Harley whispered. "For last night. For the night in max. For every time you've done something to save me. I don't even know how I can make it up to you."

Joker shook his head. She knew what he meant: that she didn't need to thank him.

Harley moved her fingers away. She shouldn't be doing this, they should begin their session. This wasn't right, no matter how good it felt.

Harley cleared her throat. "Is there anything you would like to talk about today? We could play one of your games, if you like?"

Joker thought for a moment. "Today I will ask the questions," he said quietly.

"Fine," Harley began. "But anything you ask me, you have to answer yourself after. Honestly."

Joker grinned and nodded. "I like it." He considered his first question. "Did you cry when you got home last night?"

"No," Harley replied truthfully. "Did you?"

"No."

 _Of course not._

"Did you regret what I did to the guard?"

"No."

"Neither did I." He was quiet for a moment. "Have you ever been in love, Doctor Quinzel?"

That one was a surprise. "No, I don't think so."

"If you're not sure, then you haven't."

"Then I guess I haven't. Not-" She stopped herself, she was about to say _'not until last night',_ but that would've been beyond stupid. But that wasn't the important part, because now Joker was going to answer, though she knew that his answer would be no. "What about you, Mr Joker? Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "You have?"

"Yes. Before."

 _What does that mean? Before he met me? Before he came to Arkham? Before he was the Joker?_

"What was her name?" Harley asked, leaning forward.

"I ask the questions today."

"But-"

"No." His voice was stern, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Will you tell me anything about her?" Harley continued, gently.

Joker took a moment, he seemed to be readying himself. Did he look nervous? She'd never seen that before. When he spoke it was brisk, as if he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. "We were young. We were married. She was pregnant. She died."

Harley felt like she had been hit by a train. Could she believe all of this? He could easily have been lying, just for fun. That wouldn't have surprised anyone else. But Joker had always been honest with Harley. Why would he start lying now? He wasn't looking at her any more, his eyes on the table. He looked almost angry, was that with himself, for telling her something so secret about his past?

"I'm so sorry," she whispered reaching out her hand unknowingly. "Is that what made you-"

"I said no questions," Joker replied firmly, but not threateningly. He didn't take her hand, and she hastily retracted it.

"Would you like to ask another question?" She asked.

Joker nodded, finally looking up at her once more. "What do you regret?"

Harley shrugged, "So much. Not spending more time with my mom, not working harder at school, forgetting to iron this blouse…" Joker smiled, which made Harley relax a little. "My life is full of regrets, full of 'what ifs'. I'm always too scared to do anything risky, so I spend my life wishing I had."

"Life is too short for fear or regret," Joker said.

"That's easy to say, but what if I do something stupid then regret it?"

"What if you don't do the stupid thing and regret that more?"

He stared at her with his icy grey eyes, and she knew hope was lost. She could fight it for as long as she wanted, but there was no escaping the truth.

She was in love with her patient.

And now she was almost certain he knew it.

* * *

Harley ended the session early, she needed some time to think. Would she have to quit her job? At the very least she should transfer Joker to a new doctor. But the very thought of that broke her heart: she couldn't bear the idea of another person prodding around Joker's mind. He belonged to her.

 _He doesn't belong to anyone Harley. And he's dangerous. You're going to get yourself killed. You're going to regret it._

 _Or will I regret doing nothing?_

"Doctor Quinzel." Harley turned around, Aaron Cash was heading towards her. He looked worried.

"Cash, are you ok?" Harley asked. It took a lot to spook her friend, and her own problems moved to the back of her mind for the moment.

"Do you have a minute?" Cash asked. "I need to talk to you."

"Sure," Harley nodded, gesturing to her office door at the end of the corridor. "What's it about?"

"It's about Joker. And you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks so much for the great feedback for the last chapter! As promised this one is longer, and hopefully doesn't get boring! There's a little bit of dialogue between Harley and a new character, which is taken from Batman Arkham Asylum (amazing game!), but the rest is from me.**

 **Really hope you like this chapter, reading your reviews and seeing people following/favouriting the story has made me feel so lucky, so thank you for that. You're all amazing.**

* * *

Harley followed Cash into her office, her heart racing.

 _He knows._

 _He can't know._

 _He must, what else could he have to say that's about me and Joker?_

 _Don't panic Harleen. Act calm. Give nothing away. We can do this._

Harley smiled, motioning for Cash to take a seat in front of her desk. She sat down behind it, grateful of the space between them. "So what is it?" She asked, relieved to hear the casual tone to her voice.

"I don't really know where to start," Cash began, running a hand through his hair. "I've not seen anything like this before."

Harley nodded. He had to know. How could she get out of this?

"You should see for yourself," Cash continued, passing a brown folder across the table. Harley was confused, this wasn't what she was expecting. She opened the folder to find it filled with drawings. Drawings of herself!

"Who-"

"We found them in Joker's cell."

Harley fanned the papers out in front of her."There's got to be fifty pages here." Drawings of her in the treatment room, sitting at her desk, drawings of her walking through the corridor, drawings of her hands, her face… He did all of these?

"They're all you," Cash continued. "Every single one."

"I thought he wasn't allowed so much as a pencil?" Harley asked, still looking at the pictures. Here was one of her on the floor, trying to pick up all her papers. It was excellent, he'd captured her expression perfectly: shock, embarrassment, nervous smile.

"He's not, but the clown has a way of breaking the rules. That's not important," Cash replied. "Joker's drawn the staff before, but not like this. He mocks us, draws us with animal body parts, or engaged in unnatural sex acts, or…well…just weird. It's different here. He's made you beautiful." Cash paused, clearly realizing how that sounded. "Not that you're not, I just mean-"

"I know what you meant," Harley nodded. He was right, he'd made her look absolutely breathtaking in every picture.

"Plus he always displays his usual 'art' for everyone to see. These were hidden, we found them during a random cell search." Cash cleared his throat, and Harley looked up from the drawings again. "Listen, Harleen, I'm no doctor. But I'd say Joker's developed an unhealthy obsession with you. If you want my advice, I'd say it's in your best interests, and maybe even his, to transfer him to another psychiatrist."

Harley looked back down at the drawings in her hands. Here was one of her, sitting on the floor, back against the wall, in what was clearly Joker's cell. She looked frightened, tired, but radiant. Cash was right. She nodded. "I'll recommend he be transferred to a new doctor as soon as possible."

Cash exhaled in relief. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that Doc, I'd hate for something to happen to you." Harley gave him a weak smile as he got to his feet.

"Can I have these?" Harley gestured to the drawings on the table. "Just so I can make some notes for his new doctor."

Cash shrugged, "I don't see why not." He turned to leave, before adding: "They're pretty good." He left the office.

"Yes they are," Harley whispered.

* * *

Harley spent the next hour examining every drawing in detail. She laid them out in order, realizing she could track her interactions with the Joker perfectly through them: her meeting him in the hall after dropping her papers, their therapy sessions with Jeremy, a picture of her opening the package with Jeremy's tongue in it, visiting his cell in max, more therapy sessions, lockdown in max, it just went on. He'd even drawn her with a dripping knife standing over Zsasz. For some reason she liked that one a lot, he'd made her look so strong, so in-control. He did that in most of them, but there were a few that were a stark contrast. In this one she was in the showers, curled up on the floor, looking beaten and afraid. Here was her hand, reaching gently out to touch his across the therapy table. And was this supposed to be her as a child, playing in the mud, while a dark male figure stood in the background?

Harley shivered. Joker could see into her soul, touch the very essence of her being. It both amazed and terrified her. But these pictures could also get her into trouble. They told a story she couldn't risk anyone seeing. She scooped them up and put them in a folder. She was going home, today was too much, she would pretend to be sick so she could get out of here and think.

* * *

 _To Warden Sharp,_

 _I regret to inform you that my therapy sessions with the Joker have so far proved unsuccessful. He is not responding to my treatment, and I believe it would be most beneficial for the patient to be transferred to a more experienced Doctor._

 _Regards,_

 _Doctor Quinzel._

Harley re-read the email she had sent, her heart heavy. Last night she had had a couple of glasses of wine (ok a bottle), and convinced herself to do the right thing: to transfer Joker to someone else. Now, in the cold light of day, she regretted this decision terribly. But it was for the best. She should not encourage these feelings any longer, in herself or in her patient. It would be better for the both of them if they no longer spent time together.

This is what she told herself as she drove to work, but it did nothing to make her feel better. Neither did the Warden's response when she was called to his office.

"I have to say, I'm disappointed," Sharp sighed.

"I'm sorry sir."

"Are you sure you won't reconsider? We've never had the clown stick with therapy this long, and he's actually happy to attend all of your sessions."

Harley bit her lip. "I know, but I just feel that it would be in his best interests to be transferred to another doctor."

Sharp thought for a moment. "So therapy isn't working?"

"Not with me at least."

The warden nodded. "Well I can't force you to change your mind, but if you do then I'd be happy to put him back into your care. I'll transfer the patient today." He reached down and picked up a file on his desk. "As it happens, we have an opening for a doctor with another patient. His own doctor has become…well she wanted to be transferred too. Here." He handed Harley a file, and she glanced at the picture on the front.

"Killer Croc," she breathed. _Give me back the Joker!_ "Thank you sir." She headed from the room, regretting every action she had undertaken since leaving the therapy session with Joker yesterday.

* * *

Killer Croc was kept in a cell in the sewers beneath Arkham. Harley had spent some time reading his notes, but it wasn't exactly enjoyable. Killer Croc had formerly been known as Waylon Jones. He had been born with a hideous deformity that likened his skin to that of a crocodile, and he grew up in a freak show. Every person he had killed had parts of their body removed and never found, and Croc spoke gleefully about eating his victims.

Harley arrived at the entrance to the sewers, to find Cash waiting for her. His eyes widened when she approached. "Oh no."

"Nice to see you too," Harley replied, trying to sound light.

"I never thought… This is hardly a safer option than Joker."

"I'll be fine," Harley reassured, though she was mostly telling herself. "What's the plan?"

Cash sighed. "We'll bring him out and to the treatment room. He wears a shock collar which should keep us safe but…I'd keep back if I were you."

Harley nodded, watching as the four guards disappeared through the door to the sewers, and she waited for the longest time. Somewhere she could hear a bell ringing. Then, after what felt like an eternity, movement on the other side of the door. It swung open, and two guards stepped out backwards, pointing their guns back through the door. Next to appear was something that didn't look human: and Harley could see where the 'croc' part of Killer Croc's name came from. He was only human in shape, his skin itself was hard and scaled, and he was taller and broader than the other men. His teeth were filed down to sharp points, and his mouth widened to a smile (if you could call it that) when he saw Harley.

"Fresh meat is it?" He hissed, sniffing the air.

"Shut up Croc!" Cash yelled, and she could see him coming through the door, holding the chain around Croc's neck. Another guard followed holding what appeared to be a remote, and Harley saw the shock collar sitting just above the chain. She prayed it worked. "Let's go," Cash told his men, and they led Croc to the treatment room.

* * *

Harley sat across the table from the monster, thinking longingly of Joker and their sessions together. The room felt empty without him, despite Croc's size. Croc's arms were chained to the reinforced chair, as were his feet. Guns were pointed at him the entire time. The guards informed Harley they would be present throughout her sessions with Croc: something she didn't mind at all. She took a breath, cleared her throat, then began.

"Good afternoon. My name is Doctor Quinzel." No response, he just continued to look at her. "Do you understand me?"

Croc grinned. "Yeah I hear you bitch. So when's dinner? I'm getting hungry."

"Not yet," Harley replied, choosing to ignore the way he licked his lips when he looked at her. "May I call you Waylon? Or Mr Jones? That is your name, isn't it?"

Croc ignored the question. "So is this the part where you try and reason with me? Try and work out why I did it Doc?"

"We're here to help you, Mr Jones," Harley continued.

Croc snorted. "You got a cure for me, Doc? Can you make me normal?"

"Normal is a poor choice of words," Harley retorted. "No one is truly normal, are they?"

Croc growled. "Didn't think so. So how about this, you let me go, and I won't eat you?"

Harley's skin prickled, she shifted in her seat, but tried to keep her tone balanced, professional. "You don't really eat people, it's just an urban legend."

Croc laughed, a deep, throaty sound. "You think so? You keep believing that, Doc." He made to get up, but the shackles prevented him.

"Sit down and shut up!" Cash yelled from across the room. Harley held up her hand, but it didn't matter, Croc turned to reply. "You think I'm scared of you, Cash? I've got your scent!" He bared his teeth, and suddenly his collar lit up as one of the guards shocked him. Harley held her hand against her mouth. Croc groaned, but began to laugh at soon as the shocking stopped.

"Please don't do that again," Harley said to the guard with the remote. "It's not helping." She looked at Croc, who was watching her once more. "I'm sorry about the collar, but what can we do? You have already hospitalized three guards."

Croc shrugged, still grinning. "Strap on what you like, Doc, that thing just tickles. I'm happy to wait here, wait for the Bat. I'll kill him. Then Cash. Then you."

"That's enough!" Cash yelled, making to walk over, but Harley shook her head.

"We need to continue," she said firmly. Cash nodded. Harley returned to her notes. "I'd like to talk about what happened at the house."

"Just business," Croc growled.

"Business? What business ends with a house full of mutilated corpses?"

"I don't like having my time wasted. Someone doesn't pay, they need a lesson. They owed me."

"So you killed them? Tore up their bodies. The police never found all the pieces."

Croc grinned. "They should've looked in the sewers."

Harley's eyes widened. "That's where you hid them?"

Croc's grin widened. "After a while, usually takes about eight hours." He laughed again, and Harley felt sick.

"That's enough, time to go," Cash came over and Harley didn't protest this time. She didn't move until Croc was taken out of the room, still laughing at his disgusting joke.

 _What have you gotten yourself into Harley?_

Harley got to her feet, and headed out of the door. She had some thinking to do. She couldn't bear the thought of another session with Croc, but what could she do? Ask the warden to switch again? She may as well wear a sign that said 'Terrible Doctor' around her neck.

* * *

Harley walked around the medical facility at least four times. And when she finally stopped walking, she was still no clearer. She paused by one of the windows to a treatment room, resting her head on the glass absentmindedly. From inside she could hear buzzing.

 _Great, more electroshock 'treatment', the most barbaric form of medical care since the lobotomy._ She looked up to see who the poor victim was today.

That's when her heart stopped.

Green hair.

Pale skin.

Tattoos.

Harley's eyes widened, she ran to the door, flinging it open with so much force that it slammed against the wall.

"Doctor Quinzel?" Doctor Gretchen Whistler looked both confused and irritated at Harley's sudden appearance. Joker didn't look at her at all, his eyes on the ceiling.

"What the hell is going on?!" Harley couldn't sound professional, couldn't keep the anger out of her voice.

"I'm treating my patient, Doctor."

Harley stomped into the room, looking at Joker. He was conscious, but staring up at the ceiling with a glazed expression on his face. "Who authorized this?" Harley spat.

"The warden. He said you had told him that your therapy sessions were not working, and that you wished the patient to have a new doctor. We discussed electroshock treatment as the next step."

Harley shook her head vigorously, pulling the pads from either side of Joker's temple. "Absolutely not. This is not going to continue."

Gretchen looked furious. "With all due respect-"

"I'm taking my patient back, it was a mistake to switch his doctors. If you have a problem with that, go to the warden. Joker's under my care now." Harley never broke eye contact, and it was Gretchen who backed down. She said nothing, leaving the room immediately. There were still two guards in the room, who were eying Harley curiously. "Get out!" She yelled. They looked at each other for a moment, then did as they were told.

Finally, when they were alone, Harley put her hand on Joker's head. "I'm so sorry Mr J. I didn't know this would happen."

"Harley Quinn," Joker breathed. He sounded so confused.

"This is never going to happen again, do you hear me?" A tear slid down her cheek, she had failed him.

"Harleyquinnharleyquinnharleyquinn. Don't cry Harley Quinn," Joker mumbled. "I'll keep you safe." His eyes closed, and she knew he had passed out. Harley grit her teeth, she would get some guards to take him back to his cell, then she would ask, no, tell the warden that she would be Joker's doctor again.

No one hurt her clown. No one.

* * *

Things with the warden were easier than Harley expected. He was so overjoyed that she would be continuing her work with the Joker, that he didn't care that she would no longer be working with Croc, nor that she had yelled at Doctor Whistler.

The next morning, Harley headed to the therapy room with a spring in her step. She couldn't wait to see Joker, to ask him all the questions that had been on her mind. But when she arrived he wasn't there. She waited for fifteen minutes, before heading down to maximum security. Frank Bowles was there at the checkpoint, but she wasn't scared of him anymore.

"Why isn't my patient in the therapy room?" She asked.

Frank shrugged. "He didn't want to go."

Harley was incredulous, and hurt. "What? Why?"

"Beats me."

"Well…you're his guard, why didn't you make him?"

"I'd hate for you to yell at me like you did that nice Doctor Whistler. After all, you know him best." Frank's voice dripped with sarcasm, but Harley was over it.

"Let me see him." She said.

"Be my guest." Frank pointed to the door. Looked like she'd have no protection today, but she didn't care. She'd rather be alone. Harley headed through the door to max, bypassing all the cells until she reached Joker's.

It was darker than usual in there, she could only just make him out on the bed.

"Mr Joker?" She asked into the darkness.

No reply.

"You missed our session today. What's going on?"

"Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing." Joker's voice was hard, and when he finally got out of his bed and moved to the glass, he looked really mad.

"You transferred me to another doctor. A doctor who thought it'd be swell to put probes in my brain and shock some sense into me." He glared at her with those cold grey eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Harley said, putting her hand on the glass, forgetting the rules. "I didn't know she would do that, if I had-"

"Why did you transfer me?" Joker asked.

Harley didn't want to answer. What could she say? She did it because she was frightened about falling in love with him? She said the only thing she could. "I saw your drawings."

Joker's face was deadpan. If that was a shock he didn't show it.

"Can we talk?" Harley asked, gesturing to the chair by the wall. She would just have their session down there if necessary. Joker seemed to be thinking.

"Tell ya what Doc, I'll do you a favour. I'll answer your questions, if you do something for me."

"Anythi- I mean, what?"

"You hurt my feelings when you gave me up."

"I know, and I'm so-"

"So I want you to make it up to me."

"How?"

"I want a hug."

"I…I don't…"

"Come on Doc," Joker lowered his voice almost playfully, "It's not like we haven't done it before." He grinned. He wasn't in his straitjacket. He wasn't handcuffed. If she went in there she'd be totally at his mercy. She was afraid, but there was something else too: she wanted to do it, and that feeling was stronger than the fear.

"You won't hurt me?" It was supposed to be a order, but it came out as a question.

Joker smiled. "Why don't you take a chance and find out?"

Harley looked around. If she opened the door and he made a break for it, he still couldn't get out of max. The worst he could do is smash her face in.

 _Oh awesome, thanks for that thought._

There was a camera in the corner, which caught Harley's eye. "It doesn't work," Joker said. "It's just you and me."

Harley took a breath, aware that Joker was staring at her. She took her keycard out of her pocket, and slid it through the electronic lock before she could change her mind. Joker's door unlocked, and she pushed it open. He hadn't left his spot by the glass, but turned to face her. She took a step forwards, legs shaking. He was rooted to the spot, she would have to do all the work. Another step. Now she was in front of him. Joker was a statue. Harley held out her arms, stepping in to him and wrapping them around his waist. Her heart was racing. Slowly, she felt him lower his hands, putting his arms around her.

This was different to the time in the bathroom. He held her more securely, closer to him. She couldn't leave even if she wanted to (which she didn't), but it wasn't threatening at all. In fact, she felt more safe than she ever had, just with his arms around her. Killer Croc could come in right now, and she knew Joker would protect her. Another thing was different, this was not a hug to comfort her, this was something else. She could feel the fire between them, roaring out of control. Her skin tingled where it touched his, and her stomach was alive with butterflies. Joker's head was resting on hers, was he smelling her hair? His thumbs gently stroked her back, and she was aware of a fluttering feeling between her legs.

 _This is such a bad idea._

 _It's a great idea, you shut up._

Then, all too soon, Joker gently let her go. "Ok. Ask your questions."

Harley looked at the door. Should she go back outside? She didn't want to push her luck. But she didn't leave, she moved to the little desk and sat at the chair. Joker looked surprised, but said nothing. He moved to the bed, sitting down on it, his eyes on her.

"Why did you draw me?" Harley asked, her voice not much more than a whisper.

"I draw what I see, I saw you. I like drawing you."

"They were beautiful."

"Thank you." Joker didn't smile.

"Why did you draw me like that?"

Joker cocked his head, he didn't understand.

"Why did you make me look beautiful I mean?" Harley clarified, but Joker still looked confused. "I didn't make you look any particular way. I draw what I see."

Harley fought the smile on her lips, hating herself for what was happening to her.

"What's the matter?" Joker asked, watching her closely.

Harley sighed. "You know."

"I do?"

"Of course you do."

Joker smiled. "I guess so."

"This isn't right, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have done that, I should-"

"Why are you always so worried about what's right? About what's proper?" Joker got to his feet, pacing the room and running his hand through his hair. "Why can't you just do things because you can?!"

Harley shook her head. "That's not who I am."

Joker sounded frustrated now. "You don't even know who you are! Who you have the potential to be!"

Harley got to her feet, defensive. "And you do?!"

"I know everything there is to know about you!"

"And ignoring the fact that that's incredibly creepy, I know nothing about you!" Harley waved her arms angrily. "I don't even know your name! Do you even remember it? Perhaps you're so far gone you can't even remember the person you used to be? Your new persona has destroyed that person, and this is all that's left!"

Joker slammed his hands against the desk, and hissed angrily. "I remember! Just because I don't want to share every little pathetic corner of my past does not mean I don't have one!"

"How can I justify what's happening here when I know nothing about you?" Harley had lost all the fight, she sat back down in her chair, forcing herself not to cry. What was she doing? This had to be a bad dream.

Joker's voice, quiet now, floated across the dark cell. "You know more about me than anyone in the whole damn world."

"It's not enough," Harley whispered. She heard him sigh, then begin to walk towards her. She looked up at him through watery eyes, up at the man who both terrified and thrilled her. He was beautiful and frightening, gentle and savage, he was the king of contradictions.

And now he was reaching for something, a pencil and a scrap of paper. He scrawled something down on it, then folded the paper over several times, and handed it to Harley. As she took it, he placed his hands over her own.

"That was name, my whole name, written on this paper. I've never told anyone, not since I stopped being that man." He squeezed Harley's hands tighter. "That's why I don't want you to know, why I don't want anyone to know. That man doesn't exist anymore. I can't be someone I'm not, any more than you can. If you need to read the paper, then you don't understand what I am, and we can't exist together." He was squeezing her hands so tightly now, his eyes burning into hers. "But if you can accept what I am, I promise I will help you to understand your true self, and I will keep you safe, by my side, forever."

"Why are you giving this to me?" Harley breathed.

Joker let go of her hands. "Because I want you to have the choice." He stepped back, back into the shadows of his cell. Harley looked at the folded paper in her hands. His name was there: with that, she could find out all she wanted to know about his past, about everything.

But it meant they could never be together. What did she care more about? She looked at the clown, cloaked by the shadows. She took a breath, then ripped the paper to pieces, watching the fragments flutter down onto the cold stone floor.  
Joker was in front of her, grabbing her face between his hands. "Oh baby," he grinned. "You and I are gonna have some fun."


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi guys, really hope you like this one, big changes ahead! Thanks so much for all your wonderful feedback so far, this is such a great community, and you guys rock! As always, if you have a story you think I'd like then add it to your review and i'll give it a read, I love fanfic!**

 **Oh and I'm hoping there are no weird typos. It did that thing after I re-read the story and tried to save where it said "do you want to save your changes?" And I didn't make any! So I'm hoping there's no random letters in there where my fat fingers have mashed the keyboard! Apologies if so, let's just pretend it's an example of Joker's fragile mind ;)**

* * *

 _Harleyquinnharleyquinnharleyquinn._

 _The name was like a song stuck in his head. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think, it whispered to him day in day out. Tormenting him until he could stand it no more. He had to have her. Ever since he'd first seen her, fumbling around on the floor trying to pick up the papers she'd clumsily knocked over, he'd been curious. Then, during the interviews with that ridiculous doctor, where she'd been able to tell when he was lying every time, well then he had become fascinated. And now, after seeing her strong and seeing her weak, he was obsessed._

 _Harleyquinnharleyquinnharleyquinn._

 _He needed to have her. She belonged to him. She was perfect. Smart, beautiful, strong, but desperate for protection. She wanted to be owned. He'd never known this kind of obsession, not even with…_

 _What was her name, the woman from before? He couldn't remember, but that was just fine. Focus on the now, that was the way he lived._

 _Harleyquinnharleyquinnharleyquinn._

 _She was almost his. He could taste it. He may have been the Clown Prince, but she was a Queen. And she would be his. Soon._

 _Just a couple of things to do first._

" _Frankie!" Joker yelled, watching as Bowles patrolled the corridors of max security. Bowles walked over sulkily, like a child. "What?" He asked through gritted teeth._

" _I need your phone."_

" _I told you, I can't do that again. I'll get fired, or worse!"_

 _Joker raised an eyebrow. "What do you think would happen if they found out about all the favors I've done for you? Hmm? All your little…indiscretions… that I've made disappear?" Frank glared at Joker, glanced around, then dropped his phone into the slot in Joker's cell door._

" _Five minutes," he growled, walking away._

I only need one. _Joker punched in the number. Jonny answered on the first ring._

" _It's time."_

 _Harleyquinnharleyquinnharleyquinn._

* * *

Harley spent a restless night tossing and turning. She had no idea what she had agreed to. What did it mean? What happened in Joker's cell felt like a dream. What would happen now? Joker had told her nothing: just to go home and not worry. He was taking care of everything.

Harley had no idea how this would work. Was she supposed to start sending him love notes? Arranging date nights in his cell? It was ridiculous. But why was she so excited?

Harley would have plenty of time to stew over her choice: she was working a night shift the next evening, meaning twelve hours in the asylum with minimal staff, no sessions with Joker, and lots of time to think. She went home and had an early night, no idea what was being set into motion as she slept.

* * *

When Harley arrived at work the next evening, the asylum was quiet. She didn't have any patients to see, and was just on call in case any doctors were needed, there were only a few who worked at night. She began her shift in her office, sorting through paperwork, which took several hours. She didn't mind, it was good, mind numbing, work. Harley put in her earphones, cranked up the music, and kept her head down until midnight. Finally she turned the music off, looking up at the time. She could do with a break.

Harley got up and headed for the break room. It was quiet, just a couple of doctors inside. Cash was standing with them. "Hey Harleen," he said, smiling as she approached. "Got stuck with the late shift, huh?"

"Yeah, it's fine though," Harley replied, reaching to pour herself a coffee. But she stopped, there was a noise, coming from somewhere within the mansion. "Do you hear that?" She asked.

Cash turned to the doors. The sound was getting louder, and it was clearer now. Was it gunfire? Suddenly there was an explosion, so large it made the walls shake, and all of the lights went off at once. Harley felt Cash grab her hand. The emergency power came on, coating everything in a reddish glow.

"What's happening?" One of the doctors asked.

Cash didn't answer, but he looked almost disbelieving. Harley knew what he was thinking: with the power off every patient in the asylum could simply walk right out of their cell. Harley remembered her night in max: coming face to face with the most dangerous patients. She looked at Cash, eyes wide. "Wait here!" He commanded. "Barricade the door behind me!" He ran from the room, pistol raised. Harley looked at the other two doctors: Dr George Danielson and Dr Gretchen Whistler. Both looked terrified. Harley was too, but there was something else: a sinking feeling in her stomach, did she know what was about to happen?

"Let's do what he said," George began, picking up a nearby chair and carrying it to the door Cash had closed behind him. The lights were still flickering on and off, and Harley followed George apprehensively. But before he could block it, the doors burst open. Harley felt her stomach fall to her feet.

Killer Croc stood in the flickering light. His mouth stretched to a wide grin. "Hello Doc," he said, looking at Harley. Then he saw Gretchen. "And you too? It must be my lucky day." He stepped into the room as another explosion rang out. This one was closer, shaking the walls and filling the room with blackness once more. "Run!" Harley yelled into the dark, making a break for the door.

A scream behind her. The lights flickered on and Harley could see Croc holding on to Gretchen's arm. Harley acted quickly, running at the monster. She aimed a high kick at his face and made contact immediately. She must've been stronger than he anticipated, as Croc was stunned enough to drop his hold on Gretchen. Harley pulled her arm, dragging her out of the room.

George had disappeared, but Harley pulled Gretchen down the corridor as quickly as she could: sure Croc was on their tail. They ran through the maze of corridors until Harley heard splashing beneath her feet. She looked down. Blood. She was standing in blood. There was a trail, which led right to her office door. "Let's go," Gretchen argued, trying to pull Harley away.

Harley shook her head. "We need to find out who it is!"

Gretchen shook her head, shaking free of Harley's hand and heading in the opposite direction. "You're going to get yourself killed!" Harley took a breath, putting her hand on the bloodied handle. She pushed it open.

"Stay back!"

It was Cash, he was holding his gun in one hand. He had a towel wrapped around his other one, and it was drenched with blood. He lowered the gun when he saw it was Harley. The colour had drained from his face, and Harley shuddered to think how much blood he had lost. She ran over, dropping down on the floor beside him.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Croc," Cash breathed.

"Can I?" Harley asked, reaching for the towel.

"You don't need to," Cash whispered. "He's taken the whole hand." Harley felt her mouth drop open, and she held the towel tightly over Cash's mutilated arm, applying pressure. She took off Cash's belt, using it to hold the towel in place.

"I'm not this kind of doctor," she said, beginning to panic.

"I'll be ok."

"We need to get you some help, let me get you to the medical facility."

Cash shook his head. "No, the patients are out, all of them. No way we could get there without running into them, and I don't know if I could protect you like this."

"Then I'll have to protect you," Harley replied, her voice strong. She took the gun from his hand.

"It's empty," Cash said.

Harley took a breath, nodding. "They don't know up." She got to her feet, pulling Cash up by his good hand.

"I'm fine." He didn't look fine, but Harley wasn't going to argue. She needed to get Cash to a doctor who could help him. Harley opened the door, leaning out into the hall. It was deserted. "Come on," she whispered, heading out.

* * *

The mansion was quiet. Croc had disappeared, at least from this part, and there was no one else in sight. This was good, because Cash's pace was slow and wheezy. They finally arrived at the doors, and slipped outside. Out in the grounds, things were different. Harley could see several patients roaming freely. A few were fighting with each other, some were rummaging through the bins, and one or two had removed their clothes and were just laying on the grass. More were heading in the direction of the gates, and Harley could hear gunfire coming from the checkpoint. Luckily, all of them were too busy doing their own thing to pay attention to Cash or Harley. She led him across the wet grass, watching everyone cautiously.

"Hello Doctor Quinzel." Harley knew that voice. She looked to her right, there was Jonathan Crane, aka Scarecrow. He was standing by one of the guard huts, holding a megaphone, though he was not speaking through it. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"

"Yes, wonderful," Harley replied, tightening her grip on the gun.

"I do so love a full moon. Makes everything so much more magical."

"Beautiful," Harley agreed. "We should get going."

"Where are you heading?" Crane asked quizzically.

"Medical."

"Why?" It was then that Crane seemed to finally notice Cash. "Mr Cash, my word you don't look very well." His face was filled with mock concern, as if talking to a child who was hysterical after skimming their knee. "Had a little accident, did we?"

Cash didn't reply, he looked incredibly weak.

"Let us go, Doctor Crane," Harley began. "We have nothing you want. We're not trying to put you back in your cell, I just want to help Cash."

Crane examined his fingernails, sounding almost bored. "You know, there _was_ someone who was looking for Mr Cash. Who was it now? I forget. Oh that's right, it was the crocodile." He grinned. "He was rather insistent." Crane raised the megaphone to his lips, but right then there was a loud squeak of feedback over the Asylum PA, and a voice Harley recognised from the television could be heard. "Inmates of Arkham Asylum, return to your cells. Don't make me come and get you."

Crane's grin stretched wider. "Looks like the Batman has come to join our little party. Seems you're off the hook Mr Cash." Crane mimed firing a gun at Cash with his fingers, then moved towards the penitentiary, reaching for something in his pocket. Harley saw him slip what looked like a small woven bag over his face. She shuddered..

"Come on," Harley breathed, taking some of Cash's weight and heading on towards medical.

* * *

Their journey was relatively uneventful. They passed a couple of patients, but these were low risk, and they caused them no trouble. Harley headed towards one of the medical treatment rooms, and laid Cash down on a bed. "I'll find a doctor," she whispered, as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Harley shuffled out of her white jacket, not wanting to make herself any more conspicuous than she already was, and left the room. She put some chairs in front of the door, hoping it might dissuade anyone from wandering in, then hurried away to get help.

Harley ran through the halls, the sound of screaming and gunfire echoing around her. As she approached the electroshock treatment room she saw some guards inside. And a doctor! Harley burst through the door, "I need some help!" She yelled, before realising how true that statement was.

There were three dead guards on the floor, but their uniforms had been stripped off. The men standing in front of her were definitely not guards, despite the ill-fitting uniforms they now wore. The doctor in the corner looked terrified, and he stared at her desperately when she came in. Harley turned to leave, but she wasn't fast enough, and the nearest patient grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up and pulling her back into the room. She kicked and fought, but he was stronger. "Where are you going sweetheart?" He leered. Did he have blood around his mouth?

"Let me go!" Harley protested, but he simply carried her towards his friends. He put her down in the middle of the room, the three patients now forming a close group around her.

"She looks delicious," the one with the bloodied mouth grinned.

"I bet she's smooth all over," another one replied, reaching out to touch her skin.

"Wait, I recognize this one," the third patient said, slapping the second's hand away. "Isn't that the Doctor in charge of Joker?"

"This one?" The first guard asked, a disbelieving tone to his voice. "She's a little buttercup, no way she looks after that psycho."

"I swear it's her!"

"You're a fuckin' idiot. She's probably just a nurse."

Harley didn't speak, what would be the best answer to give? To admit who she was? Would that make things better or worse? Maybe…maybe it would help her.

"He's right," she said, trying to look as though she wasn't afraid. "I'm Joker's doctor, and he'll kill you if you hurt me."

The one who recognized her looked genuinely worried, but the other two laughed. "What makes you think that clown gives two fucks about you?"

"He's long gone from here!" The other agreed.

The patient with the bloodied mouth seemed to be thinking. "But hey, you like the freak so much? Maybe we'll help you out."

Harley didn't like where this was going. What was he planning? All too quickly two of the patients grabbed her, putting her onto the bed and strapping her into place. "Get off of me! Let me go!" She screamed, fighting with all her might. It was no good, she was secure.

"Guys we can't!" The third patient was yelling. "He'll kill us!"

"Shut up!"

The third patient ran from the room, leaving Harley with the other two and the doctor. "Let me go!" Harley demanded, realizing she was more angry than scared. She wanted to hurt these guys, to stab them like she had Zsasz. How dare they treat her like this!

But then the fear crept back, as one began attaching the pads to her head. The other pulled down the prongs from the electrotherapy machine, holding them either side of her temple. He turned to the doctor. "Switch it on," he laughed. "Let's see her light up."

"I….I can't," the doctor stammered, shaking his head.

The bloody mouthed patient stormed over, pulling a knife from his belt. "You do it right now, or I cut you from top to bottom, slow like, so you can watch your insides splatter to the floor." He laughed, and the Doctor flinched, closing his eyes.

"Do it," Harley commanded.

The patient turned back, "Oh, you want it, do you baby?" His red lips glistened.

"I can take it." Harley insisted.

"Hell yeah!"

"Put this in her mouth," the other patient said, passing a leather strap over to the first. "Don't want her to break those pretty white teeth."

The strap was pushed roughly into Harley's mouth. She closed her eyes as the Doctor walked over to the machine.

Pain. So much pain. Nothing like Harley had ever experienced.

Images flashed before her eyes. Her mother smiling, laughing, dying. Those childhood days with Auntie June and Uncle Ned. Crying, stinging, smiling.

It stopped, Harley opened her eyes. The patients were grinning. "Fuck yeah, did you see her twitch! Do it again!"

More pain, more pictures. Zsasz cutting Sarah, Harley stabbing Zsasz. The tongue. James in the showers, her blood flowering on the tiled floor. Pain, and noise. Not from her. Noise all around.

Then the pain stopped, but Harley couldn''t move, couldn't open her eyes. She waited for it to start again, but nothing happened. Then she felt the strap being ripped out of her mouth. Slowly, carefully, she opened her eyes.

"Mr J?"

Joker stood over her, eyes wide and angry. But they softened at her voice.

"Harley, baby." He undid the straps holding her in, and gently pulled her into a sitting position. Everything felt strange, like she was a visitor in her own body. She was lightheaded, woozy. Things had a soft edge. Joker was watching her like she was a chick who had fallen out of the nest. "Take it slow baby," he said as she eased herself off the bed, his arms on hers, helping her to balance. Harley's foot hit something soft. She looked down, the two patients and the doctor lay dead on the floor. She looked up at Joker, noticing now that he was dressed in black pants, and no shirt. Blood spattered on his porcelain chest. There was a baseball bat propped against the table.

"You?" Harley asked, nodding to the bodies, not able to string a full sentence together. Joker nodded. "The doctor too?" Harley asked. Joker nodded again. Harley was almost surprised to realize she was neither shocked nor upset about the brutal murder of the men. She just nodded. "Ok."

Harley could see the third patient, the one who had fled the room, standing by the door. There were three other men there, all wearing animal masks, and a forth man Harley recognized. "You came to my apartment," she slurred. He nodded. Harley tried to step forward but her legs gave way. Joker caught her before she fell. "Shh shh, it's ok baby," he breathed. "You're gonna be ok."

He pulled her close, holding her against him, safe in his arms, her favorite place. "Are we leaving?" She asked, looking up at his beautiful white face. He smiled at her, a wide, genuine smile.

"Hell yeah we are." He took her face in his hands, kissing her lips forcefully. It was quick, not much more than a touch, but it sent fireworks through her body, and Harley felt parts of herself come alive for the first time. The room around her fell into focus, and she began to feel stronger on her feet. Joker turned, giving orders to his men. She wasn't listening: this was it. She was finally going to do something more stupid, reckless and dangerous than she had ever done in her life.

She couldn't wait.

Joker's men left the room, he turned back to her. Before he could speak Harley had flung her around around his neck, pulling him close and kissing him passionately. Joker seemed momentarily surprised, but returned her kisses with hungry enthusiasm. He pushed her against the bed she had been strapped to, lifting her onto it. Harley wrapped her legs around his waist, letting Joker's tongue explore her mouth.

 _How is he so good at this? I never want this to end._

She heard the doors open saw Joker raise a hand: 'wait' was what that meant. Finally she released him, but Joker still didn't look at the door, his eyes burning into hers. "Harley Quinn, Harley Quinn, Harley Quinn," he breathed, a smile playing on his lips. Harley grinned, she'd never been more frightened or excited in her life.

Joker turned to the door now. "Bat's down in the sewers with Croc," the unmasked guard said. "We can do it now." Joker nodded, turning back to Harley.

"Let's get out of here." Harley nodded, then suddenly remembered.

"No, wait, I can't!"

Joker frowned. "Now's not the time for second thoughts sweetheart."

"No, it's Cash. He's a guard-"

"I know who he is."

"He's hurt, mutilated. I promised I'd get him help. I need to help him."

Joker's expression hadn't changed. Harley put a hand on his arm. "Please. He's my friend." Joker sighed dramatically.

"The things I do for you," he drawled. "Jonny, make sure Cash get's a doctor. Make sure he lives." The man Harley recognized nodded, and after Harley explained where he was, disappeared from the room. Joker took her hand. "Let's go."

He pulled Harley to her feet, leading her from the room. Taking her to the waiting car, away from the Asylum, and away from her life.

 _Goodbye Doctor Harleen Quinzel._

 _Hello Harley Quinn!_

* * *

 **Hope you liked the chapter! Obviously things are going to change in the story now, but before I get to work on the next part I wanted to ask your opinions about a particular subject. Do we want to hear about Harley and Joker's sex life? I was planning to write about it in great detail (hello 50 shades), but if I get the impression you guys would rather have more subtle references and hints then that's cool too. I know some people don't like too much information, so I'm happy to go with the flow here, as I can see it working both ways. Either let me know in your reviews, or send me a PM! Thanks guys :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Ok you kinky lot, message received, you want details of their sex life! I hope you like this chapter guys, it's very different to the others in that there's not a lot of dialogue, nor is it very action packed...well not in the usual way. This chapter is where things get a bit R rated, so if you're averse to all that then you may want to skip some parts. I think i've made it clear when it's about to start, so you should be able to skip if you like. For the rest of you, I hope you feel I capture what their first time together might be like. More will come in the following chapters, as Harley and Joker start to explore new things and experiment together, which I hope we're all ok with!**

 **Someone mentioned that Harley is not yet the Harley we see in the movie, and I totally agree. She hasn't had that full transformation yet, so she will still have moments of doubt etc. But I am hoping for a gradual transformation into the Harley we all love, so I hope that's ok and fits with the story.**

 **Thanks for being so great, you guys are the best.**

* * *

 _Joker owns a strip club._

Why was Harley so surprised by that? Of all the things she knew about Joker, this was hardly the craziest. She supposed it was nothing to do with the fact that it was a club glorifying the female sexual body, and more to do with the Clown Prince of Gotham actually having a legitimate business.

Jonny pulled the car up outside the club, hidden away in the Gotham docks. It looked like an abandoned warehouse from the front, with a simple sign above the door which said: 'For Lease'. The door was plain, and the building deserted out front besides a single man standing alone. His entire face was covered with tattoos, and he kept his eyes fixed on the car as it pulled up. Harley had been sitting in the back, her head resting on Joker's shoulder. She was still feeling a little unsteady after the electroshock therapy, but it was finally beginning to wear off. Joker hadn't spoken to her throughout the journey, simply looking out of the window with an almost bored expression on his face. He'd slipped on a coat as they were leaving the asylum: purple and seemingly made of crocodile skin, which felt surprisingly good against Harley's cheek.

As the car stopped, Joker opened the door, stepping out into the early morning air. He turned, reaching his hand back into the car to help Harley out. He pointed up at the building. "Home sweet home," he said, sweeping his hand dramatically. Harley didn't reply, she just watched, waiting to be told what to do next. Joker nodded to the man with the tattoos, who did not look him in the eye. Then he reached out to open the door, leading Harley inside.

She was hit with a wall of music, movement, and smoke. All around the gold-lit club were small stages, cages, and poles, where women performed various dances or gymnastic routines to the heavy bass music. Men watched eagerly from plush gold couches or sitting at tables. The club itself was absolutely beautiful, and the atmosphere was electric: music, talking, laughter. It was like being in a dream. Harley felt a smile spread across her lips, she had never been to a place like this before, but she loved it already. Her mind began to race.

 _Maybe I could get on the stage?_

 _Don't be ridiculous._

 _Joker would like it._

 _So would these other men, but you don't want them to see you._

 _Why not?_

Joker led her through the club, past the bar, and to a secluded booth. There was nothing to signify that this booth was any different to the others, no velvet rope telling people to stay away, yet no one had sat here, despite how busy the club was. This was Joker's booth, Harley worked that out immediately. From where they were, they could see everything happening all around them. Joker gestured for Harley to sit on one of the comfortable looking couches, then sent Jonny to the bar. He sat beside her, watching intensely as she took in her surroundings.

"You like it?" He asked

"I love it," Harley breathed. "It's so beautiful." Joker grinned, handing her a drink as Jonny returned. It was a cocktail, not one she had ever tasted before, but delicious none the less. It was bright blue, and tasted sweet and sugary. Joker drank from a Martini glass, his eyes never leaving her.

"You own this?" Harley asked. He nodded. "For how long?"

"Still interviewing me, Doc?" A smile twitched on his lips.

"Maybe," Harley grinned.

"Good, I did enjoy our little chats."

Harley giggled, a sound she had not heard from her own lips since she was a child. She looked around at the beautiful women dressed in sequined underwear or, in some cases, nothing at all. She took off her glasses, putting them on the little table in front of her. "I feel a little out of place," she laughed, gesturing to her pencil skirt and blouse.

"I like it."

"I hardly blend in."

"Blending in is so dull," Joker replied, taking another drink. "Wear what you want to wear, do what you want to do."

"Anything I want?"

Joker leaned closer. "Anything." His eyes blazed.

Harley bit her lip. She got up, putting her drink down on the table. She stood in front of Joker, who spread his legs apart to allow her closer, and leaned in, her lips touching his ear. "Ok then," she whispered, before pulling back. Joker watched her curiously, a smile playing on his lips. She turned, walking away from the booth. "Where you going baby?" She heard him ask, but he wasn't calling her back. He was curious. Harley made her way towards the nearest podium, fifteen feet or so away from Joker's booth. It was a small platform with a pole in the middle. Harley had never done anything like this in her life, but now was the time for trying new things.

She stepped onto the podium, vaguely aware that some eyes were turning to her, but only caring about the ones belonging to the clown. Her clown. She took a breath, listening to the music, before beginning to dance. It was like she was drunk, but she'd only had one sip! The doctor in her told her it was a mixture of adrenaline, exhaustion, and probably a side effect of the electroshock therapy, that made her feel so confident, so exhilarated. She didn't care, she felt amazing. Harley grasped the pole, leaning into it and sticking out her butt, before repeating the move again. She walked around the pole, swaying her hips to the beat. More men were watching her now, she pulled her hair out of the bun, feeling it bounce around her shoulders. She chanced a look at Joker. He had put his drink down, but not moved from his seat. He was watching though.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Harley undid the buttons on her blouse. More men were watching now, a few were calling out, but she didn't know what they were saying: the music was so loud.

 _They're probably laughing at you._

 _No, they're not. Stop overthinking this._

Her blouse was off, and she dropped it at her feet. A man immediately grabbed it pressing it against his face then holding it up triumphantly. She laughed, still dancing, but now unzipping her skirt. Again it fell to her heeled feet, and again it was gone. Now she was free. Harley kicked off her shoes, so glad she had worn her matching pink bra and lace panties today, and looked at the pole. This would be easy, she was so flexible and had great core strength. Without any trouble she was on the pole, leaning back, held on only by her legs. More cheers, more catcalls, from the crowd. Harley's eyes were closed, but she opened them a fraction. He was still watching, leaning forwards in his chair now.

Harley spread her legs wide, holding onto the pole with her hands and pointing her toes. Most of the men in the room now were watching her. She lowered herself down, and began to dance, spinning around the pole as she moved. As she danced one of the men by her feet climbed onto the podium to join her. Harley didn't bat an eyelid, leaning in as if to kiss him before kicking him hard in the stomach and knocking him off the stage.

 _Why did I do that? That was crazy!_

 _He interrupted my dance! Plus it felt great!_

The rest of the men watching cheered, seeming to get even more excited by this act of violence. Harley could hardly believe what she was doing, as if she were watching rather than participating. She spun around the pole again, then held on once more just using her legs.

But now here was a different figure on her podium. A man with green hair and porcelain skin. A man covered in tattoos. A man who had taken off his coat and stood bare chested in front of her. A man whose eyes were burning. Harley stopped dancing, just standing in front of him. He moved quickly, lifting her up in his arms and carrying her off the stage.

* * *

Joker carried her through the club, saying nothing, but walking with purpose. Was she in trouble? He carried her to the back, through a small door, and up a set of stairs. Then through another door. Harley looked around, they were in a large apartment. It was beautiful: elegantly decorated in black, silver and purple. There was a kitchen on the left, open plan, and a large seating area. But she didn't get to see much more, as Joker continued to walk with her in his arms towards another door. Inside was dark, despite the fact it was morning now. The curtains were drawn. Joker led her in, dropping her down on something soft. Then she heard a door close. The lights came on, though dimly. She was in a bedroom, sitting on a huge bed, covered in black and purple silk blankets. Joker stood at the door, watching her hungrily. Should she apologize? Did she need to?

"Get up," he commanded. She made to get off the bed, but he shook his head. "No, where you are." Harley got to her knees on the bed, her heart racing.

"Take them off."

Harley's lips twitched. He didn't want everyone else to see her, not before he did. He wanted her. She bit her lip, was this really about to happen? Would it be everything she had fantasised about, in the deepest corners of her mind? Could it possibly be _that_ good?

"Now." Joker ordered.

"Yes Mr J," Harley replied, her voice breathy. Slowly, teasingly, she pulled down the straps of her bra. Then she reached around, unclasping it at the back, and letting it fall to the bed. She kept her head down, suddenly embarrassed that he was just watching her. She heard Joker exhale heavily. Footsteps on the thick carpet, he was walking over to her. "Look at me," he growled, his voice close. She raised her head, he was standing at the edge of the bed, and with her on her knees, she may as well have been standing up in front of him.

"You. Are. Perfect." His voice was throaty, his eyes eventually leaving her breasts and now locked with her own.

He leaned down, his lips gently skimming across hers, so lightly. It made the soft thudding between her legs even stronger, and she reached up to lock her arms around his neck. "What do you want, Harley Quinn?" He breathed onto her lips.

"You."

"To do what?" He was teasing her now, but she didn't care.

"Touch me." She kissed him again, moaning slightly as his hand cupped and caressed her left breast. His thumb grazed across her nipple and already she wasn't sure how much more she could stand. Luckily, Joker came to her rescue. "I should warn you," he whispered into her ear, "I don't plan on being gentle."

Harley's eyes burned as he pulled back to look at her. "I can take it," she insisted.

Joker grinned, before immediately pushing her back onto the bed. Within seconds he had hooked his fingers around her panties and pulled them off. He spread her legs, taking a moment to look at her, before running his tongue up the inside of her thigh. Harley held her breath, and gasped as he buried himself between her legs, kissing and lapping at her hungrily. As if he hadn't tasted a woman in months.

 _Well I suppose…_

His tongue was incredible, swirling dexterously around her clitoris. Harley's moans became louder. If it had been a long time for Joker it had probably been even longer for her, and already she was close. Gently he blew on her clitoris, before returning to his hungry tasting of her, and then repeated this. Harley began to tingle, feeling herself building. But then he stopped, and Harley gasped. "No!"

Joker grinned, his lips wet with her arousal. That made him so sexy Harley could barely stand it. He stood up at the edge of the bed, slowly undoing his belt. Harley sat up, this was something she wanted to be a part of! Joker let her do the rest, unbuckling the belt, then undoing the button on his pants. She could already see him straining against the fabric of the black material, and she couldn't wait to see what was inside. It was like opening a present at Christmas.

Harley was not disappointed. As she unzipped his fly and pulled down his pants and boxers, Joker sprang free in all his glory. She felt her mouth drop open. He was certainly impressive, long, thick, and the same beautiful porcelain colour as the rest of his body. She bit her lip excitedly. Harley reached out, feeling him in her hands. Joker exhaled at the touch, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. She moved her hand back and forwards, he was as hard as a rock. Joker moaned, just a little, but it practically set her over the edge. She needed him, she wanted to taste him, to put him in her mouth right now. She leaned forwards, but Joker had his own ideas. He took Harley by the shoulders, turning her around and laying her down on the bed, with her head slightly off the edge. He leaned down easing his thick length into her open mouth. Harley had no idea why this felt so incredibly good for her, but it did. Joker rocked back and forwards, sliding deep into her mouth, then out almost all of the way, then deep, then out, over and over. His breathing was getting louder. Then he pushed himself almost completely into her mouth, and as he did, found his head between her legs once more. He flicked his tongue over her swollen clitoris, and it was enough, in that instant, with his tongue on her clitoris and his thick length in her mouth, to push her over the edge.

Harley came apart in a thousand pieces, shattering all around her. She had never felt anything like that before, and she was sure she almost passed out. Joker let the waves wash over her, but just as the room began to come back into focus, gave another gentle blow of air on her clitoris. It felt good. _No,_ she wanted to say. She wasn't ready to go again, but of course, she had her mouth full, so her protests were muffled. Joker laughed a little, beginning his regime again, easing in and out of her mouth as he worked between her legs. Harley felt herself build once more, before crashing down again around him. Her breathing was rapid, her heart was racing. Slowly she began to settle, feeling the contractions between her legs start to fade.

"What's say we go one more?" He asked.

Harley tried to protest, she wasn't sure her body could take it, but she still had her mouth full! Joker rocked his hips playfully, easing himself right the way in to her exhausted mouth. "That sounded like a yes to me," he laughed. He began gently blowing on, and lapping at, her clitoris once more. She couldn't fight, she was completely at his mercy, pinned down by his strong body.

One more time she climbed the mountain, the almost painful bliss building and building until she came even harder. She couldn't think straight, her brain had turned to liquid. Gently, and so slowly, Joker eased himself out of Harley's mouth. She felt exhausted, light headed, but more aroused than she'd ever been in her life. Joker turned her, so she was lying on the bed with her feet where her head had just been. He climbed on top of her, and she caught sight once more of the monster between his legs, that had been stifling her protests just moments ago.

 _Why do I want to taste it again? For Godssake say nothing, I can't take another one yet!_

Joker was looking down at her like a hungry animal. He leaned forwards, kissing her gently before slipping a finger roughly inside her. She wasn't expecting it, and squealed a little. "My my, Doctor Quinzel," he murmured, sliding another finger inside. He eased them in and out, before adding another. Harley moaned with pleasure, but all too soon it was over. She watched with glazed eyes as he dipped his wet fingers once into his mouth, smiled, and then wiped them along his shaft. Then he positioned himself on top of her, and Harley could hardly bear the anticipation any longer.

"Say you want this," he murmured.

"I want this. I want you. I need you."

That was all he needed, Joker plunged himself into her with one thrust, causing Harley to cry out with a mixture of pain and pleasure. He was big, but it felt so incredibly good. And she could tell he had no complaints, as he closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. He began a fast but steady rhythm of fucking, and already Harley felt herself start to build again. This had never happened to her before, no man had ever been able to make her feel like this. Joker raised her legs, holding on to them so he could push himself even deeper inside her.

"It's been a while baby," her whispered, leaning into her ear. "There's only so many times I can imagine Croc in a bikini."

Harley laughed, a strange girlish giggle that was immediately followed by a gasp of delight. "Do it!" She begged.

Joker moved faster, plunging himself deeply into her over and over again. She could see he was almost there, and as she watched this beautiful, dangerous man slip inside her, she knew it wouldn't be long for her either.

 _This is it. I'm fucking the Joker. He wants me, he's turned on by me. He's going to-_

"Oh Harley baby!"

That was enough to send Harley over too, and she felt the waves of pleasure take over her body as Joker emptied himself inside her.

* * *

"That was a little stupid," Harley murmured, snuggling into the crook of Joker's arm as they lay on the bed together.

"How so?" He asked.

"We didn't use a condom." She turned to look at him, and saw he didn't look altogether concerned. "I'm on the pill anyway," Harley continued. "But even so…"

"Don't worry baby."

That was good enough for her, after all, she trusted him completely.

"I'm exhausted," Harley yawned.

Without saying a word, Joker leaned to his right and turned out the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. It must've been at least 9am, but the curtains kept out all light beautifully, with only a sliver sneaking through the gap. Harley turned to her side, smiling when she felt Joker follow suit, spooning her. Her eyelids were heavy, she knew she needed sleep, but she wanted to stay awake a little longer: to squeeze every second of joy out of this moment. She knew her new life would not provide too many moments of respite, she wanted to savor them while they lasted.

But it was no good, soon Harley drifted off to sleep, safe with Joker's arm around her, holding her gently but securely against his warm body.

* * *

Harley woke up first. Joker still had his arm around her, and was sleeping quietly. She carefully lifted his arm and slid out of his grasp, getting to her feet. She moved towards the window, opening the curtains to let some light in. The street below was deserted, though she could still see the man standing by the door. _How long does he stay there?_ It was a grey day, with a sky that threatened rain. Harley glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table: 2.50pm. She and Joker had slept for hours, though they had needed it, even ignoring the sex, they'd had a rather busy night. She watched the ships in the distance, heading for or leaving the docks. Harley always liked the sea, despite not being able to swim.

Joker groaned from the bed, "Close the damn drapes." He sounded almost like a teenage boy. Harley ignored his request, but turned around, her hand on her hip. She was still naked, but no longer embarrassed. Where had this confidence come from?

"It's time to get up Mr J," she said.

Joker groaned again, eyes still closed. Finally he opened them, then leaned up on one arm, looking her up and down. "Now _that_ is a sight worth waking up to. Turn around."

Harley's newfound confidence wavered. She blushed slightly. "I'm embarrassed!"

"Don't be embarrassed with me, baby. Turn around."

Harley relented, turning a slow circle for him. He looked at her hungrily, his hair slightly ruffled from sleep. If anything this made him look even sexier.

"That's right, now get back here."

Harley giggled, she seemed to be doing that a lot recently, and got back into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. Joker pulled them straight back down again.

"Stop!" She squealed playfully, trying to cover herself, but he exposed her again. Harley laughed, pulling the blankets right over her head. Joker joined her in the darkness. "You think you're safe from me here?"

"I'm not scared of you, not anymore," Harley teased. It wasn't completely true.

Joker climbed on top of her, kissing her passionately. His hands were all over her, on her neck, her breasts, her butt, between her legs. She could feel him hardening, pressing at her entrance when-

"Hey boss, you awake?" Jonny's voice came from outside the door.

"I'm a little busy right now!" Joker yelled, and Harley couldn't help but giggle. "Oh this is funny?" Joker whispered, teasing her by inching himself inside, just a little.

"It's important," Jonny persisted.

"So's this," Joker retorted, now halfway inside Harley. She gasped, experiencing again how good he felt inside her, how wonderfully full up he made her feel.

"You told me to tell you as soon as I-"

Joker yelled to the door now, "Jonny boy if you say one more word I'm gonna come out there and shoot you in the face."

Jonny said nothing. "Where were we?" Joker asked Harley, before plunging himself inside her.

* * *

When they had finished, Joker got out of bed, still completely naked, heading to his wardrobe. He put on some boxers, a pair of black pants and a red shirt. He walked to the door, opening it, and Harley just had time to pull the blanket up to cover her breasts. Jonny stood there, and Harley wondered if he had enjoyed listening to them. He seemed to be purposefully not looking at her.

"What is it?" Joker asked, stepping back into the room and combing his hair in front of the mirror.

"It's your guys, they're in Blackgate."

"How long?"

"Couple of weeks."

"Then let's get em' out."

Jonny nodded, stepping back and out of sight.

"Blackgate prison?" Harley asked, a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was it, this was the start: this was what she had to expect being the girlfriend of a super villain.

Joker nodded.

"You're gonna break them out?" She continued.

"Probably."

"How?"

She saw Joker grin in the mirror. He turned around. "Is it time for one of our sessions Doc?"

"Sorry, I don't want to be nosy, I just-"

"No no no, don't do that. You wanna talk, talk. You wanna ask, ask. Nothing's changed. Well, except I'm not handcuffed." He sat on the bed in front of her, grinning. "Maybe that's something for next time." Something about sitting opposite him liken this gave Harley a momentary flashback to all of their sessions in that dark therapy room. But now was so different: she was naked, Joker was unrestrained, and they had just had loud sex with his henchman outside the door. Harley wasn't ready for the big stuff, she needed to start small.

"What do you want me to wear?"

Joker seemed momentarily surprised. "When?"

"Now. All the time. You always look…you have a 'look'. I don't want to embarrass you."

"Wear whatever you want sweetheart, except in here. In here," he gestured to the room around them. "In here your current state of dress perfect."

"I need to buy some clothes. Can I get a ride?"

Joker raised an eyebrow, "Right now? I might not be able to go again so quick, but we can try." He grinned mischievously, and Harley couldn't help but smile.

"Very funny," she replied sarcastically.

"Jonny can take you where you want to go. I have some business here."

Harley nodded, getting to her feet and putting on her underwear. Joker disappeared for a moment, and when he returned he had her blouse, shoes, and skirt. She remembered dropping them onto the podium last night, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"No no, thank you." Joker replied, winking playfully. "See you in a minute baby." He headed out of the room.

Harley dressed hurriedly, then headed for the door. Joker was waiting for her in the large living room. He handed her her glasses, "You need these?" He asked.

Harley shook her head, "Nah. They're just face furniture, no prescription."

"Why'd you wear them?"

Harley shrugged. "I thought they made me look more legitimate."

Joker still didn't look like he really understood, but put the glasses down on the coffee table. He led her downstairs and out through a back door, where Jonny was waiting with the car.

"Take her wherever she wants to go," Joker ordered. Jonny nodded. Joker leaned in through the window, kissing Harley almost tenderly. "See you later."

"Bye puddin'." She said it as a joke, it was the most ill-fitting nickname she could've come up with, but for some reason as soon as it was out of her mouth she knew it was his. A smile flickered on Joker's lips, but he said nothing. Jonny pulled away, and Harley watched her clown getting smaller and smaller.

It wasn't a total lie: she did need some clothes, but that wasn't the only thing. She hated not telling him the truth, but would he have agreed if she'd told him where she really needed to go?


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi guys, hope you like the new chapter. I've not been very well this week, but I was really keen to write, so I hope this one isn't disappointing! It's kind of a lead-in to the next chapter, where I'm expecting a few exciting things to happen! As usual, thanks so much to all of you for your lovely comments, it's so motivating and humbling to read such kind words.**

* * *

Jonny took Harley shopping, and bought her anything she wanted. Harley had felt uncomfortable at first: she didn't have any money with her (her handbag was probably still at Arkham), so had planned to only buy a single change of clothes until she could find a way to access her bank account. But Jonny insisted she choose whatever she want, that Joker would pay for it all and would be unhappy if she didn't enjoy herself. Harley didn't argue too much, Jonny didn't look like someone she wanted to disagree with.

Harley bought the kinds of things she had always wanted to wear, but never had the courage to: short shorts, skimpy t-shirts, high heeled sneakers, glittery stilettos, tight black and red pants, and lots more. She also bought make-up, accessories, and a toothbrush (because becoming a super villain's girl did not mean her oral hygiene had to suffer).

Jonny's last name was Frost, and Harley was beginning to wonder if it was a name given to him by anyone who spent more than fifteen minutes in his company. He was cold, uncommunicative, and barely looked her in the eyes. In fact, Jonny spent most of the time standing by the door to whichever store they were currently in, occasionally glancing at his phone and looking bored. Harley had initially attempted to engage him in conversation, but this had been as much fun as a pap smear, so she settled for focusing on her purchases, now only calling Jonny over when it was time to pay.

But now she needed to speak to him, because she needed to escape his grasp, just for an hour. "Mr Frost," she began, hoping for a casual tone. He looked over at her from the door to the store, and moved closer, not speaking.

"I was wondering if I could go to the next store alone?"

Jonny shook his head. "No can do, ma'am."

Harley tried to look relaxed. "I need to buy lingerie, and I'd rather you not be watching over my shoulder. You understand I'm sure?"

Jonny shook his head. "No ma'am. I've been told to stay with you."

Harley wanted to argue, but she could see there was no point, so she simply nodded. "Ok then, let's go."

* * *

The lingerie shop was amazing, not the kind of place Harley would've been able to afford in her old life. She bought at least twelve sets of underwear, including a couple of sexy negligees. Then she dragged Jonny back in, wanting to browse some more. The store itself was huge, and set on several levels: everyday underwear on the ground floor, sexier stuff on the next floor up, then on the top floor, sex toys and accessories for the bedroom. Harley hadn't realized this was what was available upstairs, and was caught rather by surprise when the elevator doors opened, but her curiosity was piqued, and she decided to browse anyway. Jonny stood several feet away, trying to look nonchalant, but Harley could've sworn she saw him throw a few sideways glances at the numerous toys on the counters.

Harley was becoming frustrated, how would she escape? She needed to be free from Mr Frost: he would never let her go to the place she had been planning to visit this whole time. She walked along the rows of vibrators, smirking slightly at the brightly colored designs within the boxes. The names were rather amusing too: 'The Turquoise Tickler', 'The Lilac Lover', 'The Red Rammer'. A sign above read 'All toys are security tagged, shoplifters will be prosecuted.' Suddenly Harley got an idea. She looked over the shelf at Jonny, who was absentmindedly checking his phone. She grabbed one of the biggest vibrators, 'The Silver Stallion'. It was huge, shiny, and had a horses' head engraved on the side. She walked quickly and quietly to where Jonny stood. Placing it on the shelf behind her, she grabbed three corsets from the rail to his right. "I'd like these," she said, smiling. Jonny nodded and took the clothes. As he walked away Harley dropped the box containing the vibrator into one of his bags. Harley waited for Jonny to return, and allowed him to pick up the bags.

"Ok, let's go," she smiled. Together they walked to the elevator, Harley heading through the security panels first. As Jonny walked through, a large alarm sounded. He looked around, confused. A security guard appeared, "Sir, I need to check your bags." Jonny looked up at Harley, already stepping into the elevator. "Wait!" He yelled, but Harley just waved as the doors closed.

She was free! Harley half walked, half jogged down the street, wondering how much time she had before Jonny caught up with her. She had to get away quickly, needed to do the things she had to do.

* * *

It took Harley 20 minutes to get to her apartment building. She stood outside nervously, willing herself to step through the doors.

 _This is crazy._

 _Well that's kind of our thing these days._

 _The asylum have to know I left with Joker, what if the cops are waiting for me?_

 _Not here, not now, not already._ _Just d_ _o it!_

She made up her mind. Harley slipped into the building and up the stairs. She arrived at her apartment, and immediately reached to the top of the door frame where she kept the spare key. She heard a door creak behind her, and quickly unlocked her door, hurrying inside and praying she hadn't been seen.

Harley leaned with her back against the door, her heart hammering. Ok, she was here. Now to get what she came for.

* * *

Harley was back out on the street in five minutes, holding onto her handbag tightly. That was part one done, now for part two. That would be harder, much harder, but she couldn't commit to her new life until she did it. Harley hailed a cab and got inside. "Gotham General please," she said. Lowering herself down onto her seat as the cab pulled away. She didn't felt as confident without Jonny or her clown beside her.

The cab ride took 15 minutes, and Harley used the contents of her take-out jar to pay the fare. She stepped out onto the pavement, gulping as she looked up at the entrance to the hospital. It was busy today, lots of people were arriving and leaving. It would be unlikely she would be noticed amongst them all. And she had to do this, she knew she did, but it was still terrifying.

 _They won't be here, they've got no reason to be. So get going._

Harley moved to the front desk. "Hello, I'm looking for Aaron Cash."

The tired looking woman typed his name into her console. "Down on the Dent ward," she looked up at Harley quizzically. "You family?"

Harley internally rolled her eyes. She herself was a pale blonde woman, and Cash was a black guy with thick dark hair, they were probably not brother and sister. "I'm his girlfriend," she insisted. That seemed enough for the woman, who pointed her in the direction of the Dent ward and then continued with her work.

Harley's heels clicked along the floor. She moved quickly, aware that the longer she was away from Jonny, the more likely he was to have gotten back to Joker and told him that she wasn't there.

 _He's gonna be so mad._

 _One thing at a time Harley, let's go._

The arrived at the sign which read 'Dent Ward'. There were lots of rooms lining the corridor, and she glanced into the windows of each one as she passed. There! She saw Cash, lying on the bed, his arm bandaged to the elbow. He was asleep, but he was alive.

She smiled, Jonny had kept his word, he had made sure Cash was ok.

 _I kind of wish I hadn't hidden a huge silver dildo in his bag now._

Was Cash stirring? Yes, so she had to go. Harley couldn't risk him seeing her, not now. She turned, disappearing from sight and heading quickly down the corridor.

"Wait!" A woman's voice called. Harley turned, a nurse was approaching.

"Are you a friend of Mr Cash?" She asked. "I think he's waking up, I'm sure he'd love to see you."

Harley shook her head. "I can't, I mean, I'm in a hurry, I need to go."

The nurse looked confused, but didn't argue. "Well, can I tell him he had a visitor? What's your name?"

"Sarah Cassidy." It was the first name that came into her head.

"Ok, I'll let him know you came by Sarah." The nurse smiled, though still didn't look convinced, and walked away. Harley took a breath. It was done, the two things she needed to do, were over, and now she could go back.

Back to Joker.

How mad would he be?

* * *

Harley arrived back at the club as it began to get dark. The man on the door was still there. Harley wasn't sure if he'd remember her, but he stepped aside to allow her to open the door. Once again Harley was met with a blast of music, voices, and smoke. The club was busy, and Harley fought her way through the people, moving to the back of the room. The women danced on the stages all around her, all in various stages of undress, all beautiful, sexy, and confident. Harley could hardly believe that had been her in the early hours of this morning!

 _Oh shit._

There he was. Joker was sitting on the couch in his private booth.

Jonny was standing beside the couch. He had beaten Harley home. That meant he had told Joker what had happened. Her wonderfully elaborate lie about how she'd accidentally got separated from him was doomed to fail. Harley felt time slow down, dragging her feet as she headed towards the clown. Oh no, he'd seen her now. His eyes focused on hers, burning into her. She arrived in the booth, standing before him like a child. He said nothing, just staring at her now. He flicked his head towards the door behind him.

" _Go upstairs"_ was what that meant. Harley said nothing, but did as he requested, scuttling towards the door. She walked up the stairs in silence, her heart hammering in her chest. She could hear him behind her, and couldn't help being afraid.

 _He's never hurt you. Not even close._

She knew that was true, yet it did little to comfort her.

She entered the apartment, then turned back to look at Joker. He pointed a slender finger at the couch. She nodded, heading over and sitting down. Joker paced the room angrily, not saying a word. Harley could practically hear time passing. She watched Joker pace, watched him grind his metal teeth angrily, yet still he didn't speak.

"Please say something," Harley whispered. Joker looked at her, but remained silent.

"Yell at me if you want, I know I probably deserve it." Harley looked at her hands. "I don't know what Jonny told you, but maybe it-"

SLAM. Harley looked up. The Silver Stallion was on the glass coffee table in front of her. Harley's eyes widened. She looked up at Joker, who had slammed the box down. "You were saying?" He growled.

Haley laughed. She couldn't help it! Here was Gotham's most dangerous criminal, staring at her with his most venomous gaze, with his hand on the box of the biggest most garish dildo she had ever seen. She slapped a hand to her mouth, managing to stifle the giggles.

"This is funny to you?" Joker hissed, though she swore she could see a smile flicker on his painted lips. She must've imagined it.

"I'm sorry," Harley replied, and she meant it. "I'm sorry I did that to Jonny, and I'm sorry I lied."

"You promised you'd never lie to me." Did he look genuinely hurt?

"I know. It wasn't a real lie, I just didn't tell you-"

"No!" Joker slammed his fist down on the table, so hard he splintered the glass. Harley moved back a little in her chair, but Joker moved around the table, leaning in to her, getting right into her face.

"A lie is a lie. Don't pretend there are different kinds."

"Ok," she breathed.

"You will NEVER lie to me again. EVER!" Joker yelled. He looked manic, his eyes wild. Harley slowly, very slowly, reached out and put a hand on his arm. "I promise, I will never lie to you again."

And with that, Joker's whole body relaxed. "Where did you go?" He asked, his tone soft now. He sat beside her on the couch.

"First, to my apartment."

"Why?"

"I had to get these." Harley reached into her bag. She pulled out a photograph, handing it to Joker. "That's my mom." Joker's face gave nothing away, but he looked at the photograph for longer than she expected. Harley reached into her bag again. "And these." Joker put the photo down, sighing when he saw that she had in her bag all the pictures he had drawn of her. "You shouldn't have gone back for those," he muttered.

"I love them."

"It was a stupid risk. You want a picture, I can draw you a picture."

Harley shook her head. "No, I mean, that would be great, but these are special. They tell our story." Joker's face gave nothing away, did he think she was stupid? Sentimental? Or did he understand?

"Where else did you go?" He asked.

Harley took a breath. "The hospital."

Joker's brow furrowed. "To see your guard?"

Harley felt the hairs on her arms prickle. "He's not _my_ guard. His name is Aaron Cash and he's my friend."

"He's dangerous." Joker sighed, closing his eyes.

Harley laughed, a short burst. "That's a little rich!"

Was he trying not to smile? He still didn't open his eyes, talking to her with them closed. "Don't test me Harley Quinn, you think I won't put you across my knee?"

"Puh-lease," Harley replied, rolling her eyes, though her stomach was tying in knots.

Joker opened his eyes now, raising an eyebrow. "Careful."

But Harley liked where this was going, and she planned to push her luck. "You're not as scary as you think," she grinned, running her fingers along his arm.

Within seconds Joker had pulled her onto his lap, forcing her to straddle him. "Say that again," he threatened, holding her wrists tightly. His eyes burned into hers. "Say it again."

"I'm not scared of you."

Joker grinned. "Then you're crazy." He laughed, a loud burst that stopped as quickly as it started, before throwing her down onto the couch. But he didn't kiss her, he just stared at her.

"What are we gonna do with you little miss Quinn?" He asked.

"What do you want to do?" She breathed.

"Terrible, terrible things."

"Show me."

That was all he needed. Joker got off of Harley, pulling her roughly to her feet and pushing her towards the bedroom. "Bend over," he growled, and Harley did as she was told, bending over the bed. She heard movement behind her, then Joker reappeared with zip ties, using them to tie her hands together between the post of the bed. "Don't move," he whispered.

Harley turned to see what he was doing, before being struck firmly across the behind.

"I said not to move!" Joker trilled. Harley tried to do what he said, but when you're told not to move, it makes it impossible not to. Harley shifted a little on her feet, then felt another firm strike across her backside. Joker's voice was at her ear now. "You want another, baby?"

"No," Harley replied, not sure if that was true.

"You gonna lie to me again?"

"No."

"Good."

Harley shifted a little, and Joker struck her again. Her butt was sore, but leaning over like this, with Joker behind her, made her feel so aroused.

"Told you not to move, sweetheart. What are we gonna do with you?"

Harley wiggled her butt teasingly, turning to watch him. Joker ran his hand through his hair, a movement that turned her on so much, especially now that he looked a little ruffled. "Oh baby, you wanna play games?"

"Yes."

"Ok, let's do this. Every time you get an answer wrong, you're gonna open your mouth," he grinned, unzipping his pants, and taking himself in his hand. Harley liked the sound of this game. She nodded, biting her lip with anticipation.

"Question one," he purred. "What is my name?"

Harley frowned playfully. "That's not fair, I don't know your name! You made me rip the paper!"

Joker made the 'wrong answer' buzzer sound. "I would've accepted 'Joker', 'Mr J', or even 'Puddin'."

Harley's face blazed, "That was a trick question."

"Uh uh uh," Joker waggled his finger. "Don't be a sore loser Doctor Quinzel, just open up." Harley scowled playfully, before opening her mouth. Joker slipped inside, pushing deep into her throat. Harley swirled her tongue deliciously for a few moments, before Joker pulled out again.

"Good. Next question. How tall am I?"

Harley paused. She should know this one, it was one of the few pieces of information in Joker's file after all. But her mind was completely blank! "Uhh…6:1?" She guessed.

"Wrong!" Joker replied gleefully, motioning for her to open her mouth again. "I'm exactly six feet tall." He breathed as he eased in and out of her eager mouth. After mere seconds he pulled out, running his hand through his slick hair once more.

"What was the name of the item you planted in dear Jonny's bag?"

Harley was jubilant, "I know this! It was the Silver Stallion!"

Joker shook his head. "Nope, I think you'll find it was the Silver Stallion Deluxe!" He looked thoughtful. "Maybe I'll give you a closer look later." He grinned devilishly. "Open wide, baby."

Again Harley opened her mouth, again Joker slipped inside her. He filled up her mouth completely, and was deliciously hard and smooth. All too soon he pulled out, though he was losing his composure a little: he ran his fingers through his hair again, and his breathing had become rather rapid. Harley wondered how much longer the game would last.

"Last chance Harley my dear," he drawled. "If you get this wrong, I take you right there, like that."

"And if I get it right?" She asked.

Joker raised an eyebrow. "I don't think we need to worry about that, but if you do, I might consider untying you first."

"What's the question?" Harley asked, eager to get out of this altogether uncomfortable position. Joker got up, removing his pants completely and heading round behind her. "Hey! Don't be presumptuous!" She scowled. Joker laughed quietly, unzipping her skirt as he stood behind her, letting it fall to the floor. "Let's just say, I'm feeling optimistic." He ran his hand over her behind, sending shivers through her body. "What colour are my eyes?" He asked.

Harley couldn't believe her luck, she'd been staring into those eyes for weeks! "Grey!" She cried, "They're grey!"

"Very good," Joker replied, pulling her panties down.

Harley turned around, watching as Joker surveyed her naked behind with a smile on his face. "I thought you were untying me?" Harley asked. Joker leaned over her, his warm breath tickling her ear. "Looks like we're both liars today." He plunged himself into her roughly, causing Harley to cry out in a mixture of both shock and pleasure. Her legs began to buckle, but Joker held on tightly to her waist, holding her up. Now she forgot about the discomfort of being tied to the bed, forgot about Joker's anger. Everything was a beautiful blur.

Afterwards, Joker cut her free, and Harley slid to the floor. He leaned over, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. He dropped her down gently on top of it, climbing down beside her, his eyes never leaving hers. As Harley's world slowly came into focus around her, though still coloured by her post-orgasmic bliss, a terrible realisation appeared in her head.

 _Oh no. I'm about to say something stupid._

 _Don't say it._

 _You can't say it._

 _It'll freak him out._

 _It's too soon._

"I love you."

The words were out of Harley's mouth despite her best efforts to keep them contained. Joker's face was a mask, blank and cold. He said nothing, but got to his feet, slipping out of the room and leaving Harley alone on the bed.

 _Oh no. What have I done?_

* * *

 **So I've got some ideas on how Joker will react to this revelation, and where it will lead, but if anyone has any thoughts about how Joker might react, I'd love to read them! If your ideas are better than mine then I'll definitely use them instead, or try to blend as many together as I can.**

 **I'd like for him to overreact in some way, but as someone already mentioned, my Joker is probably a bit more 'mellow' than the ones you have read in other stories. I'd like a chance to see his more wild side, without completely changing him from the man Harley is in love with. If that makes sense? So yeah, if you want to share, then go right ahead! :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hi guys, hope you're all having a nice rest before Christmas! Sorry for the delay, and sorry this chapter is shorter than usual. My grandad has been taken into hospital with pneumonia, so things have been a bit frantic over the past few days. I hope you like this chapter, and i'm sorry if any of it seems like it doesn't flow, my mind is a bit all over the place. I've re-read and edited a few times so there shouldn't be too many errors!**

 **As usual, i've got some stuff from the movie in here, but have adapted it a bit to fit my story, I'm hoping it works and makes it more believable with regards to my slightly different take on the characters.**

 **Thanks for all your kind words and suggestions from the last chapter! I've tried to incorporate several of them, and am really grateful for all your ideas!**

* * *

 _Fuck. What have I done?_

Harley sat up in the bed, hearing Joker leave the apartment. Why did she say that? How would he react? He hadn't looked surprised, hadn't looked mad even, just got up and left. Harley chewed her nail anxiously. Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life?

* * *

Joker didn't return all night, and by the following afternoon Harley was practically manic. She dressed hurriedly, throwing on a blue blouse and a pair of black pants. Her hair was a mess: returning to it's natural curls, and she didn't even bother to put on any make up. Haley paced the living room, calling down to the club every ten minutes to find out if Joker had turned up again. He hadn't. She tried to think of where he might go, but it was pointless: if she was honest with herself she knew virtually nothing about this man. She didn't even have his cell phone number: she'd never needed it before. Harley wanted to go out and look for him, but she hadn't the first clue where Joker would go.

 _But you know who would._

Harley made up her mind, hurrying down to the club. There was Jonny, sitting at the bar. On his phone, as usual. He caught her eye. Harley gestured for him to follow her upstairs. He did, though rather unenthusiastically. Harley opened the door of the apartment, and Jonny walked inside. He looked relaxed, seemingly unaware of the state Harley had gotten herself into. In fact, was he playing Candy Crush on his phone?

"Where is he?" She asked, shortly.

Jonny shrugged. "Got me." He grinned as he completed another level on his game. Harley smacked the phone out of his hands.

"Don't lie to me. You're his right hand man."

"You think he tells me anything?" Jonny sounded sincere, but his face told another story. He knew where Joker was, or at least he knew something. He sat down on the couch. "Just gotta wait. He'll come back. Probably."

Harley picked up the gun from the coffee table, aiming it at Jonny's head. "You tell me what you know right now, or I'll blow your fucking head off!"

Jonny raised an eyebrow. "You and I both know you ain't gonna do that sweetheart. You're not the type."

Harley threw the gun across the room angrily, then dropped down on the couch beside him, all the fight worn out of her. "Look, I'm sorry I planted that thing in your bag. That was wrong of me. And I'm sorry for pointing a gun at you right now. I just…I'm worried." She felt her eyes watering. "I said something stupid."

For the first time Jonny looked genuinely interested in talking to her. "What'd you say?"

"That I loved him."

Jonny exhaled loudly. "Well shit."

"Did I blow it?"

Jonny shrugged. "I dunno, Joker, he don't think like anyone else I know. He could come back in an hour happy as can be. Or he might never come back."

"Could you call him? You don't need to ask where he is, just check he's ok."

"Already tried," Jonny admitted. "His cell is switched off."

Harley felt like her heart was breaking into thousands of pieces. "What can I do?" She asked.

Jonny sighed. "Look, when the boss gets stressed, he drives. He'll be out there now, driving around. That's all I know."

It was enough. It meant he wasn't holed up somewhere. It meant he was out on the streets, that she could track him down. Harley kissed Jonny on the cheek, and ran from the apartment.

"Hey," Jonny called after her. "He likes sports cars, he'll be in one of those. Probably a Lamborghini…"

* * *

Six hours. Harley had been walking the streets of Gotham for six hours. It was 10.30pm. She was exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and cold. But she didn't care. She wouldn't go back until she found him.

A truck pulled up beside her. An overweight man in a cowboy hat leaned out of the cab window. "Hey baby!" He called out. "Hop in, I'll take you wherever you want to go."

Harley kept walking, her eyes forwards.

"Hey bitch!" The trucker yelled. "Don't ignore me! Get in the fucking truck!" Harley stopped, turned to look at the trucker. She said nothing, but the pure hatred in her eyes seemed enough to get him moving. "Crazy bitch," he called out as he drove away. In a moment of madness Harley had the urge to chase after him, to throw open the door of his cab, pull him out into the street and stamp on his face until he was dead. But she didn't, he was too far away now anyway.

Harley rounded the corner, her mind still full of fantasies about the different ways she could kill the trucker. Then she saw him. Joker was in a purple Lamborghini, waiting at the lights. "Hey!" Harley yelled, beginning to run over. Joker looked in her direction, his expression blank, before speeding through the red light. But Harley wouldn't let him escape that easily. She saw a woman not far away climbing onto a motorbike. Harley had an idea, and ran over. With more force than she realised she had, she pulled the woman from the vehicle and knocked her to the floor. "Hey!" The woman protested. Harley didn't listen, climbing onto the bike. The key was already in the ignition, she hit the gas and sped away.

Joker may have thought he knew everything about Harley, but he didn't know she had been riding motorcycles for years. That she felt more comfortable on a bike than in a car. She sped in the direction he had left, hitting 95mph within seconds. A group of women attempting to cross the road jumped out of her way, crying out angrily in her direction. But their voices were lost to the sound of the roaring bike, and the wind in her ears.

There he was! The Lamborghini was on the bridge, heading out of Gotham. Harley sped up, drawing level with the car. She looked through he window, he purposefully avoided eye contact with her, putting his hand up to block her gaze. Harley cried out, exasperated, and sped on ahead. He wanted to make this difficult, fine, she could do that! Harley was aware she was acting insane, but that was just fine. She needed to be insane to pull off this next move. She turned the bike, letting it screech along on its side. She climbed onto the seat, crouching on top of it. As the bike skidded to a halt, she threw herself off, somersaulting in the air, and landing perfectly on her feet. Harley turned, staring down the car now approaching.

 _He's gonna drive into me._

 _No he won't._

 _Let him. He wants me gone, he'll have to run me down._

 _You're acting crazy._

 _Who gives a fuck?_

Surprisingly, Joker stopped the car, though just inches from her legs. Harley pounded on the bonnet. "You're not leaving me! You're not leaving me!" He got out, running his hands through his hair. "You can't just run out like that, I won't let you!" Harley's voice was unrecognisable to her, high pitched and crazed. Who was this woman? Joker watched her as he moved closer, his face cold, distant.

"After all we've been through," Harley began, her regular tone returning. "All the stuff at the Asylum, the things you did for me. You saved my life, I stopped your electroshock therapy, I can't-"

Joker held up his hand, silencing her. "Got it got it got it." He sighed. "Listen sweetheart, I am not someone who is _loved."_ He said that word as though it were something utterly distasteful. Suddenly he clapped his hands together just inches from her face. "I'm an idea! A state of mind." A truck had pulled up behind Joker's parked car, and sounded it's horn impatiently. Both Harley and Joker ignored it. He continued, walking round her, his voice raised. "I execute _my_ will according to _my_ plan, and you, _doctor,_ are not part of my plan."

He met her gaze, but Harley refused to accept it, putting her hands either side of his face. "Just let me in, let me in, I promise I won't hurt you."

The truck sounded it's horn again. "You promise? Promise promise promise," Joker muttered, stepping away.

Now the trucker was getting out. It was the same one who had called to Harley earlier. He looked angry. "Hey dickface!" He called to Joker, who ignored him completely. "You mind screaming at your bitch somewhere else?!"

Joker began to speak "I wouldn't-" But he was cut off. It was as though Harley was watching herself rather than participating. She reached out to Joker and pulled his pistol from the holster at his chest. She turned to the trucker and shot him. A single shot, straight through his head. He fell heavily.

"I was gonna say I wouldn't do that if I were you," Joker finished, looking at the trucker on the floor. Harley's head was spinning, what had she done? But, more importantly, why didn't she care?

 _That jerk deserved it._

Joker turned, realising the gun was still raised and now pointed at him. He moved closer, the gun pressing against his head. "Don't hurt me," he said in a ridiculous mockery of his own voice. "I'll be your friend." He smiled, his metallic teeth gleaming under the streetlights. He was acting like she was an idiot: someone he could make a fool of and manipulate. Harley was so angry that at that precise moment, she wanted nothing more than to blow the clown's head clean off. How dare he do this to her? Making her fall for him, letting her leave her old, safe, life, then taking it all away. But of course, she couldn't pull the trigger. Joker's face was serious now, and he pressed his forehead into the gun even more. "Do it," he breathed. "Do it do it do it do it."

Harley felt the tears in her eyes. "My heart scares you, but a gun doesn't?"

"Do it!"

But she couldn't. Joker snatched the gun from her, holding it now against his temple. "Ha haaa." When Harley's expression didn't crack he dropped his arms, looking exasperated. "If you weren't so crazy I'd think you were insane." Harley didn't break eye contact, and for a moment something in Joker's expression wavered. He rubbed his face with his hands. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me the truth!" Harley's voice was stronger than she felt. "If you don't love me then that's fine. I'll go. But I think you're lying to me. I think you love me and you're scared."

"That's what you think?" Joker looked angry. He grabbed Harley by the arm, dragging her to the Lamborghini and pushing her into the passenger seat. He got around the other side, climbing in and slamming on the accelerator. He turned the car, the breaks screaming their protests, and headed back towards the city. Harley had no idea where they were going, but at least he wasn't running from her.

* * *

They drove in silence, Joker ignoring every red light and stop sign, driving so fast Harley held onto the seat tightly enough to leave deep imprints in the leather. Finally they arrived at a large building in the factory district. There was no guard, and Joker simply drove straight through the chain link gates, breaking them open without any resistance.

Harley looked up at the glowing sign on the side of the building, it read: Ace Chemicals. "What are we doing here?" She asked. Joker didn't answer. He parked the car and got out, leaving Harley to follow behind him. He didn't back to see that she was. She followed him into the factory, and up several flights of stairs. There seemed to be no one else around, the two of them were on their own. Finally they found themselves on a platform overlooking at least thirty huge vats of bubbling liquids. The smell was intense: strong and sharp, and it made Harley's eyes water.

"What is this place?" Harley asked, looking over the railing at the steaming vats of chemicals below her. Joker stood at her side, exhaling loudly before he spoke. "This is the place where I became what I am." Harley didn't say anything.

"I told you before about my...wife," Joker's voice was little more than a whisper. "I don't remember much about her, so don't bother asking. But I do remember we were poor. Real poor. Like, can't-afford-to-eat poor. I took a job with some local criminals, to rob the card factory next door: where I used to work." He paused for a moment, and Harley wondered if he would even continue. When he spoke, it was quick, as if he wanted to get it out before he changed his mind. "Just before the robbery, the police told me my wife had died. She got electrocuted testing out a bottle heater. She was dead, and so was the child she was carrying. But I couldn't get out of the job, the mobsters said they'd kill me if I left them to do it on their own. I was the only one who knew how to get in and out of the factory without being seen, so I had to go through with it. But it was a bust, the Batman got there before we'd even got into the factory, and we had to make a getaway through this building." He gestured around him. "The other guys, they left me. It was just me and the Batman. I managed to give him the slip, but I fell into the chemicals trying to escape. When I climbed out, I had changed."

"Your skin-"

Joker shook his head. "Not just that. Sometimes it just takes one moment to change you forever. I stopped thinking about anyone other than myself, I stopped caring about the consequences for anything, I became an idea. Not a person."

"Can anyone live their life like that?" Harley asked.

"It's the only way I can," he insisted. "And I love it. But that's not who you are."

Harley felt as though she had been punched in the chest. Joker continued. "Before you said you loved me: we were just having fun. You were free to go, to do what you wanted. Now, it's different. You're not like me. If we're not the same, then this life isn't right for you."

"But I love you."

Joker held up his hand. "Stop saying that. You don't know what it means because you don't understand me. And I can't keep dragging you along wherever I go, hoping you'll understand." He paused, his voice softening a little. "It's not fair."

He moved closer, putting a finger on her lips. It was tender, gentle, and it made Harley's eyes fill with tears. His voice was little more than a whisper. "I don't want to destroy you like I've destroyed everything else." Were those tears in his eyes too? He stepped back. "Don't follow me. Go home Harleen. Tell them I took you, that I forced you to come with me. You can go back to your old life. You can still go back." He turned, walking towards the door.

"Wait!" Harley called. Joker stopped, but didn't turn. Harley's voice was strong. "You think you know me, but you don't. I'm not weak and I'm not a piece of glass you can break." She looked at the rail behind her, moving closer. Joker hadn't turned, but he was still there, still listening.

"You don't want me to be something I'm not. But it's not up to you to decide who I am. You know just as little about me as I know about you. I killed that guy on the road and it felt great!" Her back hit the railing, but she kept her eyes on Joker. "You don't love me? That's fine, I'll go. But don't try to use me as an excuse because you're scared of what we could become together. You're wrong, I can't go back, I'm making a choice, to be the person I was always meant to be. And I'm gonna be her with or without you."

Slowly Joker turned, just in time to watch Harley throw herself over the railings.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hi guys, hope you're all having a great time eating xmas leftovers! Thank you all so much to everyone who sent messages/left reviews which included best wishes for my Grandad. He's still in hospital, but we have had some nice visits, and he's still with us, which is brilliant.**

 **I hope you like this chapter. It's a bit of a fluffy one, mostly centred on Harley/Joker domestic life (or their version of it). I know it's not too action packed, but something big is brewing, so it's all building. Hopefully this one isn't boring!**

 **Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you seriously have no idea how much reading your kind words meant to me over these last tough few days, so thank you.**

* * *

White. Everything was white.

Harley's skin was burning.

She felt her clothes fizzing apart around her.

She couldn't breathe, couldn't swim. Her body was in shock.

* * *

 _Just let her go._

 _She can't swim, why'd she do that if she can't swim?_

 _She's not your problem any more. This solves everything. Let her die in there._

Joker turned, making his way towards the door. But the voices in his head would not stop: whispering, chattering, screaming at him!

 _She made her choice._

 _Get her back!_

 _You don't need her, you've never needed anyone before!_

 _But she's perfect! You know you've never felt like this. You need her._

 _All the more reason to leave her behind._

These thoughts and more flew around Joker's head, all in the space of nanoseconds. He made his choice.

* * *

Harley knew she was sinking deeper below the surface. This was it. She was going to die, right here, right now. Things were getting dark as she sank further into the thick liquid. Her life didn't flash before her eyes. Had that always been a lie?

But then she felt rough hands on her shoulders, pulling her back towards the light. Suddenly she could breathe! Her skin tingled all over, but it was not painful anymore. Lips were on hers, a gentle lingering kiss. She knew that kiss. Harley's eyes opened as she took a gasp of air. There was Joker, her Joker, holding her in his arms. She felt a rapturous smile spread across her lips, and pulled Joker in again, her hand on the back of his neck. He kissed her with force, his perfect tongue exploring her mouth. The way he was holding her, so tightly against his body: she knew he would never leave her again. She had made her choice, and he had made his. All too soon he pulled away, laughing loudly. "Ha ha ha!" Harley grinned, wrapping her arms around him gleefully, holding him close as they laughed in the bubbling liquid.

* * *

Harley didn't remember getting back home. She woke up to the warm sunlight pouring in through the open drapes. It felt warm and delicate against her skin. She turned, realising Joker was laying beside her, watching her sleep. "Morning," Harley breathed, reaching out to touch his face. She gasped, looking at her arm. It was the palest, milky colour, a skin tone to match Joker's own. Harley sat up, holding out her other arm and examining it. This one, too, was ghost white. She pulled the blankets off to discover her legs and stomach were the same colour. Harley jumped out of bed, running to the full length mirror. She raised her hand to her lips. Her entire skin tone was porcelain: beautiful and flawless. Her hair was white-blonde, but on the left hand side it was blue from halfway down, and on the other side, pink. She cocked her head to the side. "Huh, that's weird."

Joker got out of bed, coming to stand behind her. He wore just a loose pair of black pants, and put his hands on her shoulders. "The dye from our clothes, it spread to your hair. Happened to me too, the first time."

"At least mine's not green," she teased playfully. Joker gently pinched her behind and she giggled, looking in the mirror again. Harley twirled a strand of hair between her fingers. "I like it."

"Me too."

"Really?" Harley turned, looking up at Joker. "You think I look good now?"

"You always looked beautiful."

Harley beamed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Joker's lips. "This is the best birthday ever."

Joker's eyes widened, he stepped back a little. "What did you say?"

Harley turned back to the mirror, shrugging. "It's my birthday today."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joker asked, sounding almost irritated.

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Because you ran out on me? And to be honest, I doubted you'd care."

Joker turned her around to face him, a little roughly. "I care. You know I care about you, otherwise I would've let you dissolve in that tank."

Harley nodded. "Ok, point taken. But still, I didn't think birthdays would be a big deal for you."

" _Your_ birthday is."

Harley cocked her head to the side. "Why? You wanna buy me a present?" Was her old accent slipping through even more easily now? Perhaps it was because she felt so relaxed?

"Perhaps," Joker mused. "What would you like?"

Harley reached for her new hairbrush, running it through her hair, which seemed to have lost most of it's usual curl. _Good, I hated those._ "I don't know," she shrugged again. "Nothing big." She grinned. "Get me a bear or something, that'd be cute."

Joker grinned. "Anything for you, baby."

Harley turned, planting a chaste kiss on Joker's lips again. "I need to have a shower, don't go downstairs without me." She disappeared, heading towards Joker's huge bathroom.

* * *

The room was beautiful: decorated with black tiles that glittered in the light, and containing a huge jacuzzi tub as well as a shower big enough for four people. Harley stepped under the warm water, smiling as it ran over her still slightly sore skin. She heard a noise, turning to see Joker enter the room. She watched him heading to the sink, where he began to shave. Harley was fascinated.

"Why are you staring at me?" He asked, watching her through the mirror.

"You're shaving."

"Wow, you _are_ good Doctor. Arkham really lost an asset when you ran away with me."

"Oh ha ha," Harley replied sarcastically. "I just mean, that's so…normal. That's all." Joker grinned. He carried on shaving, but glanced at Harley in the mirror frequently.

Suddenly she got an idea. She reached for the bottle of purple body wash, squirting a large amount into her hands and running it gently over her skin. Joker's shaving slowed, and he seemed to be watching her closely. Harley pretended not to notice as she gently lathered the suds against her breasts.

"I know what you're doing," Joker grinned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harley replied coyly, making a big show of dropping the bottle of body wash. "Oops, clumsy me," she smiled, bending down slowly to pick it up.

"Are you trying to tempt me, Harley Quinn?"

She loved it when he called her that. Harley made her voice sound suitably shocked. "I'm trying to have a shower Mr J. What your depraved mind pictures is your own business." She grinned, then, on a whim, pressed her breasts playfully against the glass. Joker chuckled, a throaty laugh she hadn't heard before. He seemed so relaxed, just like a normal guy in the bathroom with his girlfriend. Joker dropped the razor into the sink, making his way towards the shower.

"I'm not sure there's enough room for the both of us," Harley joked with a deadpan expression, glancing around the huge shower. "You'll have to wait your turn."

Joker pulled down his pants, sliding the door aside. "I'm sure you can squeeze me in," he replied, grinning. Harley giggled, stepping back until she hit the tiled wall behind her. Joker moved towards her, taking her wrists in his hands, holding them above her head and leaning in for a long, yet oddly chaste, kiss. There was no tongue, and he wasn't touching her, other than holding her wrists. He was even holding himself at enough of a distance that his growing erection wasn't pressing against her skin, though she could see it there, in all it's glory, just centimetres from her stomach. Joker's eyes blazed into hers.

"What's the problem Miss Quinn?" He asked, now playing coy himself.

 _Two can play at this game,_ Harley thought. "Nothing at all Mr J, I just need to finish washing myself." Joker smiled, releasing her wrists.

"Well of course, be my guest." He passed Harley the bottle of body wash.

"Thank you." Harley squirted some into her hands, then ran it along her neck, breasts, and stomach. Then the rubbed some a little lower, slowly, gently. Joker was watching her, the monster between his legs twitching a little, but he made no move.

"You will not break me, Miss Quinn," he breathed.

"This is a contest?" She asked, looking up at him through her wet lashes.

"You've made it one. And you will lose."

"How?"

Joker moved closer, and she felt him pressing against her stomach. Now came the familiar fluttering between her legs. "Because in five minutes you will be begging me." His voice was a whisper.

"Begging you to do what?" She whispered in return.

Joker grinned, not answering. Harley bit her lip. She would not let him win this. She had never really been a competitive person (that was always Sarah's game), but with Joker it was different: he brought something out in her. She had to win.

"Can you put some on my back?" She asked, holding out the bottle.

"Happy to," Joker replied casually. He poured some of the wash onto his hands, and Harley turned round, letting him run his strong hands over her skin. As much as she wanted Joker to lose, however, it was torture. Feeling his hands on her made her just want to drag him into the bedroom. What made it worse was that he not only rubbed the foam onto her back, but also round to the top of her chest, and down to he breasts. But he didn't touch her nipples, and soon moved on to her stomach. Harley exhaled a little, her breath hitching. "Something wrong, baby?" Joker purred in her ear, pressing himself up against her behind. He was rock hard.

"Nothing," Harley replied sweetly. She picked up the bar of soap from the shelf, dropping it purposely on the floor. "Whoops." Harley bent down slowly, taking her time reaching for it. She heard Joker's breath catch, and felt him gently press against her. "Say the word, baby. Say you want it. Say you need it." Harley got up slowly, Joker still pressing himself between the cheeks of her behind. "Say it," Joker whispered. He put his hands on her waist, his fingers slipping across her stomach, gently sweeping between her legs but not penetrating her. She did want him, she wanted him so badly, but she couldn't let him win. Could she?

Joker spun her round, pushing her roughly against the wall. "Say it." He ordered. His pupils were dilated, his voice strong.

"I…"

Joker smiled, he knew he was about to win, but Harley wasn't ready to give up, not yet. She turned around, switching the water off. "I better get ready, I need to choose a birthday outfit." She side stepped him, getting out of the shower. She heard Joker step out behind her, but didn't turn to look. She grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself. Harley's heart was pounding, Joker was following her, but she still purposefully didn't look at him. Harley walked through the living room, enjoying the feel of the thick carpet beneath her wet toes.

"You're testing my patience now Harley Quinn," Joker's voice drifted out from behind her.

Harley glanced over her shoulder, her expression innocent. "I don't know what you mean."

Joker stood still, the towel around his waist straining against his erection, his eyes blazing. "Get over here, right now."

Harley considered walking back to the bedroom, but the look on his face told her he was serious. She made her way over, standing in front of him.

"Yes puddin'?" She asked sweetly.

Joker ripped the towel off her body, throwing it across the room. The cold air was a shock to her warm, wet skin. "You think you're stronger than me?" Joker growled.

"I think you want me."

Joker raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

There was a knock at the door. They both ignored it. "So you don't want me?" Harley asked sarcastically, looking down at the rock hard bulge contained beneath Joker's towel.

"I can control myself."

"Well maybe I should find someone who can't?" She teased.

"Maybe you should." Joker was calling her bluff, a trace of a smile on his lips.

Another knock. Harley had a wicked idea. "Fine," she muttered. She walked over to the door, swinging it open with a big smile on her face before Joker could say a word. Jonny stood in the doorway. He immediately looked away when he saw Harley standing stark naked in front of him.

"What's up Jonny?" Harley asked casually, leaning on the doorframe.

"Oh…uh…I just…I uh…I have some news on-"

Harley interrupted. "You know Jonny, it's rude not to look at a girl when she's speaking."

Just as Jonny's eyes flicked up, Joker appeared at Harley's side. "Get out!" He yelled, slamming the door. Harley casually turned to look at him. "You think that was funny?" He growled.

"I thought you didn't care anyway?" She asked.

Joker looked like he wanted to scream at her. Or hit her. But then he did neither, he just laughed. A long, loud, gleeful laugh. Harley giggled, unable to believe the ridiculous thing she had just done.

"Jonny just got more than he bargained for," she spluttered.

Joker moved closer, running a finger from her lips, down to her belly button. He looked at her with those beautiful eyes, saying nothing. Harley knew she was done for, she'd lost, and right now she didn't care.

"I want you," Harley whispered. Joker grinned, moving in and finally kissing her with all the passion she had been waiting for. She pulled off his towel, letting it drop to the floor. Suddenly his hand was between her legs. He stroked her clitoris, gently at first, then with more pressure. Harley's breath quickened. He was still looking at her with that intense expression, and as she began to build she knew it wouldn't take long.

"You want me to kiss it?" He purred, his eyes never leaving hers.

Harley bit her lip, nodding. Joker grinned, getting to his knees and gently sliding his tongue over her sex. He kissed, blew on, and licked at her in a delicious pattern, and within seconds Harley reached climax, and was gasping for air. He grinned up at her, lips wet with her arousal, then got to his feet. "What next?" He asked gently. Harley took him by the hand, leading him into the bedroom.

Once inside, she took control, pushing Joker onto the bed. She was going to take her place between his legs, but Joker had other ideas, immediately pulling her on top of him. He took hold of her wrists, forcing her down so he could plunge inside her. Harley threw her head back, moaning with pleasure as she felt herself deliciously filled up.

Joker held on to her tightly, using his strong arms to lift her up and down over and over, and within seconds Harley felt her climax building again. Joker couldn't be far away, his breathing becoming more ragged. Harley leaned in, kissing Joker roughly, letting her tongue explore his mouth. Joker moved faster and faster, and as Harley felt the waves of pleasure crash over her, Joker cried out her name, coming apart around her.

* * *

Harley woke up. How long had she been asleep? Joker wasn't in the bedroom, and for one horrible second she thought he had disappeared again, but then she heard his voice coming from the next room. Harley got to her feet, wrapping a sheet around herself. She padded into the living room. Joker was on the phone. He smiled when she came in, quickly ending his phone call.

"Hey baby," he said, moving closer and kissing her cheek, the action was so gentle and tender that it made Harley want to cry.

"How long have I been asleep?" Harley asked.

"A couple of hours," Joker replied, waving his hand vaguely. "I need you to do me a favour."

Harley was intrigued. "What?"

"Don't go downstairs for a couple of hours."

"Why?" Harley asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Do you trust me?" Joker asked.

Harley thought for a moment. "Yes."

"Then just trust me. I'll come up for you in a few hours." He paused. "And as sexy as that sheet-dress is, wear something a little more…celebratory." He winked at her, before leaving the apartment.

Harley listened to the sound of him heading down to the club. She had an idea what he might be doing, but with the Joker, nothing was ever certain.

Surely, though, he could do something as harmless as celebrating her birthday without too much chaos.

Right?


	21. Chapter 21

**Hi guys, here we go! Couple of bits of housekeeping before the next chapter: the suit Joker is wearing later in the chapter is the one he wears in the 'Purple Lamborghini' music video (check it out, he looks awesome). I also had to make up the name of a band for this chapter, but that's almost impossible as it seems there are bands named after every possible combination of words! The band in this chapter are completely made up, but it turns out there is another band of the same name: my characters are in no way based on this New Zealand rock group from the 80's!**

 **Hope you like the chapter and where it's heading, thanks so much for your great reviews and kind words so far, I really do appreciate it so much. Update on grandad: still in hospital. We've been told varying things, but to be honest we're just trying to enjoy our time with him while we can. Your lovely comments have been truly appreciated, thank you so much to all of you.**

* * *

Harley was bored. Bored out of her mind. She had already dressed, and was wearing a gold and black diamond checked dress, lots of gold jewellery, and glittering gold heels. She had curled her hair at the tips in a 1920's style, and made up her eyes and lips dramatically. Now she sat on the bed with nothing left to do except drive herself crazy wondering what was happening downstairs.

She had been hearing movement from the club all day, but knew better than to step out of that door. She reached for her cell phone. Joker had programmed his number into it earlier, so she decided to send him a message.

"Puddin, I'm bored. Come play with me. H x".

She waited, then the notification popped up to say Joker had read the message. There was movement from the next room, and within seconds he appeared at the door, closing it swiftly behind him. "Wow, baby baby baby," Joker purred. "You are a vision."

Harley smiled. "A bored vision."

Joker joined her on the bed. "We're almost finished down there, then you can come out."

"Will you stay with me?"

Joker thought for a moment. "Yeah, I need to get dressed anyway." He got to his feet, choosing some clothes from his closet. Harley's heart fluttered when she saw him pick out a black suit, formal and old fashioned, complete with tail coat, white waistcoat and a bow tie. She loved it. Joker dressed hurriedly, and if Harley didn't know any better, she'd say he was nervous.

"You ok?" She asked.

Joker glanced at her in the mirror while he fastened his tie. "Yeah, why?"

Harley shrugged. "You just seem a little…different, that's all."

Joker continued getting ready, talking to her through the mirror. "Well, trying to organise a birthday party with a couple of hours notice isn't the least stressful thing in the world."

Harley grinned. "So you _are_ throwing me a party! I knew it." She thought for a moment. "But, I have no friends, not here I mean." No, what she meant was that she had no friends, period. Sarah was in Australia and Cash was in hospital, and neither of them were likely to come to a party organised by the clown prince of crime. She didn't mind, Joker was the only person she wanted to be with, but how could you plan a party with just two people?

"Don't worry about it," Joker replied, as if hearing her thoughts. "You're gonna love it baby." But he still looked a little anxious. "Come here," Harley called him over, motioning with her finger. Joker finished straightening his tie and came to stand in front of her as she sat on the bed. "I hate to see you stressed," Harley said, her voice gentle. She reached forward, stroking the material at the crotch of Joker's pants.

"What're you doing, baby?" Joker sighed, though he was smiling.

"Just helping you ease the pressure." She could already feel him getting hard beneath her hands, and the fact that he wasn't protesting told her she was good to go. She unzipped his pants, allowing him to spring free. She stroked his shaft with her fingers, so delicately, then ran her tongue over the length of him.

Joker exhaled. "You're gonna ruin your pretty lipstick," he breathed.

"You want me to stop?"

"Hell no."

Harley grinned, softly running her tongue over him, teasing him, licking him like a popsicle. Joker moaned, and she immediately took him in her mouth. A little at first, but then deeper and deeper. Joker put his hands on either side of her head, putting himself in control, and eased himself in and out of her eager mouth. "Oh baby, baby, baby" he whispered, pushing himself right to the back of her throat. Harley loved the feel of him, hard and smooth and perfect. They continued, going at the pace Joker controlled, for several minutes. Then he began to speed up, and she knew it wouldn't be long. Harley had hated this part with other guys (well, that one other guy that she let do this to her), but with Joker it was different. She wanted to please him, wanted to taste him, wanted to do anything for him. He slowed a little, and she knew he was trying to decide whether to stop. Harley pushed him deeper to show what she wanted. Joker grinned, resuming his rhythm. Seconds later he gasped. "Oh Harley!" And there it was, warm and sticky in her throat, gone with one swallow. Done.

Harley smiled to herself, that wasn't so bad at all. And for the look on Joker's face it was totally worth it. He pulled her to her feet, immediately kissing her lips. "Baby, you are perfect."

Harley smiled, but then that nervous look flickered across Joker's face again. "What's wrong?" She asked. Joker sighed, motioning for her to sit on the bed with him. She did.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, and I don't know how to start-"

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"What?" Joker called irritably.

"Boss, the present is here." It was Jonny. Joker grinned, getting to his feet, looking as excited as a little boy. He opened the bedroom door, taking a huge box from Jonny. It was wrapped with purple paper, tied with green ribbon and a large bow. He needed both hands to carry it, and set it down on the floor in front of Harley. Jonny left the room. Harley beamed, "What is it?" She asked, kneeling in front of the box.

"I don't do this often, but I'm pretty sure the idea is to open the box," Joker replied sarcastically, but he looked excited. Harley couldn't help but feel butterflies: this was all so, normal?

Harley untied the ribbon, pulling the lid off the box.

Ok, maybe not normal.

Inside the box sat a small black bear cub. It looked up at Harley curiously, attempting to climb out of the box to reach her. It made excited snuffling noises. Harley's mouth dropped open, she looked at Joker. "You can pick him up," he said. Harley didn't need more persuading than that, reaching into the box and pulling out the perfect little creature. His fur was soft and warm, and he immediately nuzzled into her chest.

"How…what…" Harley was lost for words.

"You said to get you a bear."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "I meant a stuffed one."

Joker shrugged. "I can get him stuffed if you want. Jonny!"

Jonny opened the door, Harley held the bear tighter. "Don't you dare!" She warned. Joker laughed.

"Do you like it?" Joker asked, almost tentatively.

"He's perfect, but where did you get him? He's so little, he belongs with his mother in the wild."

Jonny answered her. "His mother was a circus bear, she died a week ago. The circus people have been looking after the cub but they got shut down. I bought the bear off them this morning. He's tame, he likes people." That seemed true enough, Harley had attempted to put the cub on the floor, but he immediately climbed back onto her lap, where he drifted off to sleep within moments. She stroked his ears gently, they were so delicate and soft.

"You don't want him?" Joker asked.

Harley smiled. "I love him already."

Joker grinned. He looked up at Jonny. "Put his stuff in here, I need to take my queen to her party."

Jonny nodded. Joker pulled Harley to her feet, after she carefully set the sleeping bear back in the box, and led her out of the room.

 _If that's how it starts, what on earth is waiting for me downstairs?_

* * *

The club looked incredible. As well as the normal gold lighting and furniture, there were gold and silver decorations lining the walls and draped over the tables. Each table had been covered in glitter, and there were gold sprayed flowers in vases everywhere. Balloons (also gold and silver) floated freely, as well as covering much of the floor, and there was a tower of cupcakes the size of Harley in the corner of the room. All of the dancers had the tips of their hair dyed two different colours, though Harley noticed that none of them had been allowed to use pink and blue together. The club itself was full to bursting, and everyone cheered when Joker walked in with Harley on his arm. "I don't know any of these people," she whispered in his ear.

"Who cares?" Joker replied casually.

Harley smiled. "Good point."

Joker led her to the end of the room, where a band were about to start performing on the largest stage. Harley looked up at them and gasped.

"That's Knightshade!" Her favourite band since she was a teenager, made up of three guys: a singer/guitarist, bass player, and drummer. "How did you know?" She asked Joker.

"I know you, baby." Joker smiled, but when she looked sceptical he laughed. "Annnnd I might've sent Jonny to your apartment to go through your music collection."

"How did you get them here?" She asked.

"I asked them."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"Well I paid them too, obviously."

Harley couldn't shake the feeling Joker wasn't telling her everything, but was unable to ask any more questions, because now the lead singer, Tom, was speaking through the microphone. "Hey everyone! We're here because it's Harley's birthday, and we're gonna have the most fuckin' awesome night!" Cheers from the crowd. The band began to play, and Harley's worries about having no friends, whether the band had been taken against their will, and the fact that there was a bear in her bedroom, immediately floated away. She was here, with the man she loved, dancing in front of her favourite band, what could be better?

* * *

As it turned out, Joker was an incredible dancer, and the two of them barely looked at anyone else for the next half an hour. Knightshade were amazing, everyone was having a great time, and it was without a doubt the best party Harley had ever been to, and it was hers!

At the end of the next song, Tom spoke again. "We're gonna take a short break, then we'll be back!" Cheers and applause, then the DJ put on a dance track. Most people continued dancing, but Harley led Joker to their booth, she needed a drink.

Joker sat down, pulling Harley onto his lap and motioning to the nearest dancer to get the two of them a cocktail. She returned immediately, putting the colourful drinks onto the table. "Happy birthday Miss Quinn," she said, with a thick New York accent. She had beautiful red hair, dyed black on one side and white on the other. She was stunning.

"Thanks cutie," Harley replied, taking a long gulp of the delicious liquid. Joker leaned in, kissing her neck delicately, despite the number of people around them. Was he drunk? He couldn't be, he had been with her since coming downstairs, and neither of them had stopped for a drink. To be honest, he was never one to follow the rules about what was expected in public anyway. Harley giggled as Joker continued to run kisses over her porcelain skin.

"Excuse me."

Harley looked up, Tom and the rest of the band stood in front of the booth. Her mouth went dry, she was completely star struck! Joker looked up, almost lazily. "Yes?"

"We were just wondering if we could use the bathroom?"

Harley laughed, finding her voice. "You don't need to ask! We're not at school-" she paused, noticing the two large men standing behind the group, the nervous way the band members were looking at Joker. She leaned back on his lap, looking at her clown. "Did you…kidnap, Knightshade?"

Joker didn't break eye contact. "Maybe."

Harley gasped, getting off his lap and standing in front of him. "You kidnapped these guys? For my birthday party?!"

Joker didn't seem at all concerned, answering as confidently as if she had asked whether he wanted another drink. "Yes."

Harley turned to the band. "I am so sorry! You can go, you don't have to stay here!"

A couple of the guys looked at each other nervously, clearly scared. Harley turned back to Joker. "Tell them!"

Joker sighed, waving his hand. "You can go."

Harley looked at the band. "And of course we'll pay you, how much are you supposed to get?"

Ben, the drummer, shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, we weren't offered any money, he just said he wouldn't kill us if we came."

Harley's eyes widened, turning back to Joker and speaking with venom. "You threatened to _kill_ them?!"

Joker shrugged. "It's easier than dealing with bank transfers."

"I hate technology," Jonny chimed in.

"Tell me about it," Joker agreed, rolling his eyes.

"You're missing the point!" Harley interrupted. "I'm so mad at you!"

"Look, we'll stay," Tom said from behind her. "It's fine, we're all fine." He was watching Joker nervously.

"You absolutely don't need to stay," Harley replied. "This is terrible."

"No it's cool," Tom replied, then lowered his voice. "Look, we don't wanna be on Joker's bad side. If you say we're safe, then that's enough."

Harley shot one more death glare at Joker, before replying. "I promise, he won't do anything."

Joker rolled his eyes again, but nodded.

Tom and the other band members all seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and headed back into the club. Harley dropped onto the seat besides Joker, too angry to speak, just staring out onto the dance floor. Finally she did. "I can't believe you did that."

"Really?" Joker turned to her. "Is it so unbelievable?"

Harley felt the trace of a smile play on her lips, despite her firm desire to look furious. "No, I suppose it's not." Before she could stop herself she had climbed on top of Joker, straddling him on the chair, he grinned, his hands on her back. "No more kidnapping," she insisted, taking his cheeks in her hands. "Not for me."

"So I can kidnap for me?"

"What you do in your own time is your business," Harley replied, winking.

Joker pulled her closer, kissing her. "That's my girl. Listen, I need to talk to you-"

But they were drowned out by the sound of the band starting up. They were playing Harley's favourite song! She squealed, "Come and dance, Puddin'!"

* * *

It was 2.00am. The party had been amazing and showed no signs of stopping. Now that the band weren't fearing for their lives, they actually seemed to be having fun, taking a break between every few songs to drink with people and dance on the crowded dance floor. They bought people onto the stage to sing with them, and even attempted to put a party hat on Joker.

It wasn't a great idea, but luckily Harley managed to diffuse the situation before anyone got beaten to death.

The band had stopped playing now, and were dancing to another fast paced track on the dance floor. Well two of them were, Tom was on one of the stages, attempting to swing around a pole with the red headed dancer. Harley was exhausted, and went to the bathroom for a moment to splash some water on her face. She'd never been much of a party-goer, but she would not give in and go to bed. She planned to keep going until everyone else went home! She looked at her reflection: she still looked surprisingly good, if a little tired.

She stepped out of the bathroom, and was immediately pulled into the shadows, a hand covering her mouth. Her eyes widened in fear, but then she relaxed. She slapped Joker on the arm as he uncovered her mouth. "You scared me!"

"Good." He grinned, leaning in to kiss her, holding her tightly against him. Then he pulled away. "I've been wanting to speak to you all night." He looked serious, worried even.

"What is it?" She asked.

Joker took a breath, doing his usual thing of speaking quickly when he didn't really want to talk about something. "I'm aware that you've told me you loved me and I haven't said it back-"

"You don't need to," Harley interrupted. "Not if you don't feel it, I shouldn't have told you in the first place, it was too soon."

"I'm glad you told me," Joker admitted. "It's just hard for me. Maybe I felt love before, with the other woman. But that man I used to be, he's not here now, he's gone. This me, and this me has never felt anything even close to love, except maybe for myself." He smiled a little at that, which relaxed Harley. He continued, "All I know is I feel things with you, for you, that I've never experienced before. I don't know if it's… I just feel that-" He stopped suddenly, reaching into his pocket. His phone was vibrating, he looked at the number skeptically, before answering the call. "What?" He asked, his voice impatient. "Now?" He hung up, looking a little confused and very angry.

"I'll be right back," he muttered, heading towards the back door.

"What's going on?" Harley asked, following him.

"Nothing, don't worry. This'll only take a second." He opened the door, heading out into the pouring rain.

* * *

Harley waited, looking at her phone every ten seconds. After five minutes she shook her head. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, opening the door and stepping out into the rain. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and for a moment she thought he had gone. Then she saw him, not far away, further down the alley. Her stomach dropped, he was fighting: five men surrounded him, and were trying to force him into a car.

"Hey!" Harley yelled, running over.

Joker saw her, his eyes widened. Was that fear? "Harley! Run!" He narrowly avoided one punch but then took another to the stomach. Two of the men turned around, running towards her. Harley kicked out at the first, knocking him to the floor. The other struck her hard across the face with, was that an umbrella? She looked up, all of the men had umbrellas, which were closed, and they were using them as weapons. But as another one struck her in the stomach she knew it was not an ordinary umbrella: it was much stronger, and knocked the wind out of her. Harley fell to the floor, the rain hammering down, soaking her to the skin. She tried to get up, but was knocked down again. She lifted her head in time to see Joker fall. The three men closest to him lifted him up and threw him into the trunk of the car. She tried to get up again, but one of the men kicked her hard in the ribs, knocking her back down.

"What about her?" The one nearest to her called to the others.

"Cobblepot just wants this one," another replied. So they left her, all getting into the car. Harley got to her feet, feeling weak. She kicked off her shoes, running to the car, which was already pulling away. Her ankle twisted as she stumbled over a pot hole, and she fell, hitting the ground hard. She watched the car rumble down the alley.

"JONNY!" She cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. "JONNY!"

Within seconds the door beside her flew open, Jonny appeared. He made to pick her up, but she pointed down the alley. The car was long gone. "Joker," she panted. "They've got him." Jonny's eyes widened, he ran in the direction she had pointed to, disappearing round the corner as he pulled his gun from his pocket. Harley couldn't get up. She sat there in the rain, her hair falling in a heavy curtain around her face, her make up smeared and running.

Jonny was back, kneeling down beside her. "Who was it?" He asked.

"They said…they said…" Harley was cold, in shock, she couldn't get the words out. She took a breath. "Cobblepot."

Jonny's voice was hard, angry. "Penguin." He helped Harley to her feet, half leading, half carrying her back into the club.

A wall of sound met them as they entered, but as Jonny led the soaking wet, bleeding, hobbling woman through he club, the music stopped, and people began to stare. Some of the dancers rushed over, but Harley waved them away. Jonny took her to the booth, sitting her down. The room was silent now, all eyes on Harley. A cloth filled with ice appeared, and someone was holding it against her ankle. Harley barely noticed, her mind was racing, her eyes crazy. She looked around, looked at the faces of the people she didn't care about.

"Everybody get the fuck out!" She yelled, getting to her feet despite the searing pain in her ankle. Surprisingly they did, immediately. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, or the tone of her voice, but the room emptied within seconds. The only people left were the two men who had been guarding the band, a couple of other security guys, and Jonny.

"What do you wanna do, boss?" Jonny asked as Harley dropped back down onto the seat. She picked up a drink, Joker's drink, and swallowed it in one gulp. It was strong, but that was good. She needed it. When she spoke, her voice was steady, calm.

"We're going to get him back."


	22. Chapter 22

**Hi guys, thanks for the lovely reviews of the last chapter! It honestly has been one of the things getting me through this tough time. Update on my Grandad, he's still with us. He's got a very strong heart, despite most of his body shutting down, and he is still mentally sound, so we're having lots of conversations whenever he's awake. The hospital have told us we won't have much longer with him, so just trying to make the most of it while we can.**

 **Hope you like this chapter, I've re-read and edited a couple of times, but my mind is still a bit of a mess. But writing is really therapeutic, so I wanted to get this chapter up. I apologise if there are any glaring mistakes I've missed!**

* * *

Harley was planning. She had been planning for hours, ever since yelling at her guests to get the fuck out of her party. She was sitting in bed, pages of paper spread out in front of her, trying to get her head around the fucking nightmare she was living.

Bear was on her lap, curled up and sleeping. She hadn't named him, not properly. He was Bear for now, and that was fine. She couldn't put him back in his own bed, she needed someone with her, and if it wasn't Joker then this was close enough. She absentmindedly stroked his soft fur, aware of the calming effect it was having on the raging fury inside of her.

 _How could anyone do this?_

 _This is your world now, villains are villains Harley._

 _They took Joker, he's mine._

 _Like they give a fuck about that! Those guys didn't even know who you were? And what exactly are you going to do anyway? Write them a strongly worded letter?_

No, she was going to do more than that. Penguin and his men had no idea the world of pain that awaited them.

Actually, she had no idea either. That was where the planning came in.

Harley was waiting for Jonny to come back. She might've been a bit short with him when he left her a few hours ago, but she didn't care. He had helped her upstairs and into the bedroom, where she sat heavily on the bed.

"You need some ice for that ankle?" He had asked.

"I _need_ Joker back."

"I'm just sayin', you don't ice it, it might get-"

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!" Harley had yelled. The lowered her voice, no longer shouting, but still firm. "Here's what I need from you: I need to know where he's been taken to. I need to know why. I need to know how many people Penguin has, what weapons they're packing, and how to get in. That's what I need from you. Don't come back until you have it."

Jonny had nodded, leaving the room. Harley had been alone for the past four hours.

She looked at the papers in front of her. She had been researching Penguin, printing out every piece of information she could find. Here's what she knew: his real name was Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot. He was short, fat, and dangerous. Known as being one of Batman's most dangerous foes, he used specialised high tech umbrellas as weapons. He ran a nightclub called 'The Iceberg Lounge', though she doubted very much that Joker would have been taken there. Penguin had been linked to hundreds of crimes, usually of priceless paintings or antiques, but had never been charged. There had always been someone else to take the fall, the evidence had vanished, or (in one particularly gruesome case) everyone linked to the prosecution had been killed. There had been no stories about him recently: everything had gone strangely quiet. There were rumours on the internet that he had left Gotham, and a few that he had died: that the Batman had killed him. Harley wouldn't have believed it, even if she hadn't seen his men last night: the Batman didn't kill, everyone knew that.

There was a knock at the door. "What?" Harley called impatiently, waking Bear up.

The door opened, Jonny came in, standing awkwardly. He wouldn't make eye contact, and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Harley looked down, realising at some point over the past few hours she had thrown her dress on the floor, and was now sitting on the bed in just her bra and panties. She rolled her eyes, "Unfreeze Jonny, you've seen more of me than this."

He still looked nervous, but at least made eye contact. "You got the information?" She asked.

Jonny nodded, "As much as I could get."

"What do we know?"

Jonny came further into the room. "Ok, it's definitely Penguin who took Joker. Word on the street is that he's collecting."

"Collecting?"

"Yeah, super villains. From what I heard, he's got a few already, he's got them displayed in these glass rooms."

"Where?" Harley pressed.

Jonny looked nervous. "We don't know. No one seems to know where they are."

"Why is he collecting them?"

"We don't know."

Harley gritted her teeth angrily. "Tell me you have more than this," she growled.

"Yeah," Jonny continued. "One of the guys Penguin was collecting got out. But he didn't get far: he was picked up by Arkham PD, and has been taken to Blackgate prison."

"Who is it?"

"You're not gonna like it…"

Harley thought for a moment, then it struck her. "Not…Zsasz?"

Jonny nodded.

"I thought he was at Arkham, recovering?" She remembered their last encounter: standing over Victor Zsasz in her apartment, stabbing him repeatedly in the back.

"He was, but during the break out he escaped with some of the other guys."

"If he's been caught, why wasn't he taken back to Arkham?"

"He's waiting for an assessment, then they'll transfer him. But if we want to know where Penguin's keeping the boss, we need to bust him out."

"Some of Joker's men are being held at Blackgate too, right?" Harley remembered Jonny and Joker talking about it.

Jonny nodded, "That's right. We could get them out at the same time, we'll need them if we're gonna take on Penguin's men."

Harley considered this. "How do we get them out?"

Jonny shrugged. "I'm not much of an ideas man, I just follow orders." But Harley's mind was whizzing, she already had a plan forming. She looked up at Jonny again, a smile playing on her lips. "Tell me Jonny, did Jonathan Crane make it out of Arkham?"

* * *

Harley was dressed in tight black pants and a red and black corset, and wore tall high heeled boots. She had put her hair into a ponytail and her make up was stern. She took her spot in Joker's booth, looking around at the rest of the club. It was open, the place never closed, but it was quiet, with just a few patrons. The dancers looked a little worried, and kept darting nervous glances at Harley.

 _They think I'm crazy after last night._

 _Good, let them think that._

Harley looked up as the doors opened. Jonny and another man (she thought his name was Carl) were pulling Jonathan Crane into the club. He looked a little roughed up. Harley grinned, she had not told Jonny to be gentle. Crane was thrown onto the floor at Harley's feet. He looked up at her, a little worse for wear, yet still wearing the smug expression Harley had seen so often in the Asylum.

"I hope it was something beyond important that required your men to drag me away from my work?" His tone was blasé.

"He was poisoning some guy," Jonny chimed in.

"I was _working_ ," Crane interrupted. He looked up at Harley, then around the club. "Who are you? Where is Joker? I know this is his club."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember me, Doctor Crane?"

Her voice must've been memorable enough, despite her changed appearance, because Crane looked momentarily shocked. He quickly regained his composure, the smug expression returning. "Doctor Quinzel? You look a little different."

"It's Harley Quinn now."

Crane sighed. "Of course, it would have to be a clown related persona, how very _unique_." His tone was sarcastic, and Harley didn't care for it. "I'm assuming you've fallen victim to one of the clown's tricks? You poor creature."

"I'm not looking for your sympathy, Doctor Crane, or your approval. I need your help."

Crane smiled. "That is music to my ears, I'd love to try a new treatment on you-"

Harley shook her head. "No, thank you, Doctor Crane. No, what I require are your…special skills." Crane looked curious, but said nothing, so Harley continued. "I read your file when I worked at Arkham. You're the Scarecrow, a criminal with a toxin that makes people come face-to-face with their deepest fears."

Crane never broke eye contact, still on his knees. When he spoke, his voice was balanced, with little expression. "What do you want, Doctor Quinzel?"

"I want your toxin. I want to use it when my boys and I break Joker's men and Victor Zsasz out of Blackgate prison."

Crane got to his feet, and Harley nodded at Jonny and Carl, who stepped back. She got up from the couch, eye to eye with Crane. "You're gonna give me what I want, Crane."

"It sounds like you're threatening me, Doctor, I can't say I care for your bedside manner."

"I'm not a doctor anymore, and neither are you. We can do this two ways, Crane. You give me the toxin and I let you live, or you don't and I get my boy Jonny here to kill you." She nodded at Jonny, who grinned at Crane, giving him a wink.

But Crane simply smiled. "You're not going to kill me _Miss Quinn._ You may have a new look, a slutty outfit, and a little more confidence, but you're still the same fearful creature you always were."

Harley nodded, "Perhaps you're right." She turned away, as if to move to the couch, before quickly turning back and punching Crane square in the stomach. He doubled over, caught off-guard, and fell to his knees gasping for air. Harley bent down in front of him, whispering just loud enough for him to hear. "You know nothing about me, Crane. So give me what I want before you make me mad. I don't want your blood to spoil my _slutty outfit_."

Crane raised an eyebrow, though his smug expression was never far away. "My my, we have changed."

Harley was impatient. "What's it gonna be?"

"Tell you what, I'll make you a deal. You do something for me, and I'll give you the toxin."

Harley raised an eyebrow, but she was curious. "What do you want from me?"

Crane grinned. "So many things, my dear. But for now, your blood."

Jonny snorted. "Go fuck yourself Crane." But Harley held up a hand to silence him.

"Why?"

"What I want it for is my business." He got to his feet, eye to eye with Harley again.

"No, you tell me what you want it for, and I'll consider it, otherwise no deal."

Crane shrugged. "I'm experimenting with a new formula, I'm interested to see what human blood will add to the mix. Seeing you now, I believe yours would be perfect."

"Boss, this is going nowhere," Jonny interrupted. But Harley waved him off again.

"How much?" Harley asked.

"A couple of vials, no more than if you donated to a blood bank."

Harley considered this. Did she have a choice? Not if she wanted his toxin. "Ok," she conceded. "Jonny, go get Crane a syringe and some vials." Jonny nodded, still looking at Crane with an untrusting expression, before leaving the room.

Crane held up his hands. "That is unnecessary, I have all the equipment back at my place."

Harley shook her head, "If you think I'm using a needle you've provided, you've got another thing coming. We'll use clean ones, thank you."

Crane shrugged. "Whatever you say."

* * *

Jonny arrived back quicker than Harley expected. And before she knew it, she was up in the apartment, sitting on her couch, while Crane put his gloves on beside her. "You sure about this, boss?" Jonny asked warily, whispering in her ear.

"We don't have a choice. If we kill him we lose the toxin. Just be ready," Harley muttered. "I don't trust him."

"As well you shouldn't," Crane piped up. "But today, all I want is your blood." He smiled, but while most smiles would put Harley at ease, this one made the hairs on her arms prickle. Then Crane did something unexpected, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the arm. Jonny raised his gun, "Easy buddy."

Crane grinned, "Relax, the warmth makes the veins more visible."

Jonny looked sceptical, but lowered the gun. Harley looked at Crane, who was grinning. He winked at her.

 _Liar,_ she thought.

"This might sting a little," Crane said gently, sliding the needle under her skin. Harley gritted her teeth, but made no sound. She watched as Crane took her blood, filling up one vial, and then another. After he was done he removed the needle, then covered the spot with a cotton wool pad and some tape.

"Thank you," Crane said, putting the vials into his pocket.

"Now you give me what I need," Harley insisted.

Crane nodded. "I need to go and get it. I can be back here within the hour."

"Good," Harley replied, getting up. "Jonny will go with you."

"That's right, you don't trust me, do you?"

"No."

Crane grinned. "I'll see you in an hour. Oh, and I'm coming with you to Blackgate."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Why would you want to do that?"

"I'm…curious, to see how this goes."

"Well thank you, but we don't need you."

"Do you have any idea how my toxin works, Miss Quinn?" Crane asked condescendingly. Harley couldn't answer. "Do you have a custom-made mask to protect you from it's effects?"

Harley shook her head.

"Do you know how long the effects of the toxin last before they begin to wear off?"

"Ok Crane, you've made your point."

Crane nodded cordially, and left the room, followed closely by Jonny. Harley shivered, he made her feel incredibly nervous: like she had to appear ten times stronger just to gain his approval. Not that she wanted it.

Not really.

 _Ok, enough about Crane. You have the toxin, now time to figure out how to use it._

* * *

"This is crazy." Crane was shaking his head, his eyes on the floor.

"You can hardly talk about crazy, Mr Scarecrow" Harley replied sarcastically. The two of them were in the back of one of Joker's less flashy cars, with Jonny at the wheel and Carl in the passenger seat. They were heading to Blackgate Prison, and Harley's stomach was in knots. Somehow, teasing Crane made it a little easier.

Crane rolled his eyes, though a small smile flitted across his lips. "Perhaps. But this isn't going to work, they'll shoot us the moment they realise what is going on."

"Then you need to make sure you do your job properly," Harley replied, hitching up the black pencil skirt she had changed into, and slipping a pistol into the holster on her leg. She caught Crane watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Enjoying the view, Doctor?"

Crane's eyes snapped forwards. "I can't say I know what you're talking about."

Harley snorted, but said nothing more.

"I feel like I should've asked for more than just two vials of your blood," Crane sighed. "Especially if I'm about to get shot."

Harley smiled, putting on the brown wig which had been sitting in her lap, and shuffling into a black blazer, complete with fake ID badge. Crane was already wearing his. She leaned over and smoothed his hair, "There you go sweetie," she grinned. He rolled his eyes.

The car approached the high barbed-wire topped fence surrounding the prison. There was a guard post, and Jonny slowed the car down.

"No visiting today," the tired looking guard said over his newspaper.

"No, I've got Doctor Scareson and Doctor Jokerman, here to do a patient assessment," Jonny lied smoothly. "We're on the appointment list."

Harley knew the guards out here didn't have the list, he had to let them into the building to check. She was right, the guard simply nodded, opening the barrier to let them into the grounds.

"Easy as pie," Jonny grinned as they pulled away.

"The names were a nice touch," Crane drawled.

"Doctor Scareson, I like it," Harley grinned.

"Yes, yes, how _clever_."

Jonny pulled up outside the main entrance to the prison. "You sure you don't want me to come in?" He asked, turning around.

Harley shook her head, "No, it'd look too suspicious." Jonny sighed, nodding. "Let's go," Harley motioned for Crane to get out of the car. He adjusted his glasses, and took hold of his briefcase. "You need this," he said, handing a face mask to Harley. It looked a bit like a surgical mask: big enough just to cover the mouth and nose. He handed another two to Jonny and Carl. "What about our eyes?" Harley asked.

"The toxin has to be inhaled, your eyes will be fine."

"How can we trust you?" Jonny asked sceptically.

"Well why don't you wait and see if your eyes melt?" Crane asked, climbing out of the car.

Jonny groaned, "I hate that guy."

Harley smiled, making to follow Crane, but Jonny's voice gave her pause. "Hey, be careful, boss." She nodded, following Crane out into the mid morning air.

* * *

Crane and Harley entered the prison, heading to the front desk. The woman sitting there looked at the two of them suspiciously. "Help you?" She asked, and Harley realised she wasn't suspicious, just irritable. There were four other guards in the room, two drinking coffee over near a machine, one filling out some paperwork at a table, another just standing by a door at the back, which led to the cells.

Crane smiled politely. "My name is Doctor…Scareson, this is Doctor Jokerman. We're here to assess Victor Zsasz before his transfer to Arkham Asylum." The lies slipped off Crane's tongue as easily as silk. The woman typed onto her computer. While she did it, Crane nodded to the mask in Harley's pocket. Harley put her hand over it, she needed to be ready.

The woman looked confused, staring at her screen. "I don't have you-" Before she could finish her sentence, Crane had opened his briefcase, and a grey coloured gas escaped into the air. Harley didn't breathe, quickly putting on her face mask. She watched Crane calmly put on his mask: a sack which looked like the face of a scarecrow. It was tattered, sewn awkwardly at various places, with small holes for his eyes. The mouth looked like it had been ripped and haphazardly sewn together, but Harley knew there was some kind of filter in there to protect Crane from the toxin.

The room filled with screams of terror as the guards succumbed to their deepest fears. Within seconds they were all on the floor, most crawling to the nearest corner and curling up into a ball. Harley headed round to the computer, pulling her cellphone from her pocket. "Jonny, get in here." She looked at the screen, listing the patient locations. Jonny arrived, wearing his face mask. Carl was behind him, holding his gun tightly as he surveyed the room. "Ok", Harley began. "Joker's men are in Cell Block D." Crane handed Jonny a couple of hand made grenades from his briefcase, each one containing his toxin. "You want Crane to come with you?" Harley asked.

Jonny shook his head. "No thanks. No offence Doctor, but you give me the creeps."

Crane didn't reply, too busy enjoying the way the guards were freaking out at the sheer sight of him. He paused to hand Jonny another stash of face masks.

"For the prisoners," he said. Jonny nodded, a small look of approval on his face.

"You gonna be ok with him?" Jonny asked, turning to Harley.

"Fine," Harley replied. "I'll get Zsasz." Jonny nodded, heading towards Cell Block D with Carl.

"Come on, Crane," Harley began, finding Zsasz' location on the computer.

"I'm not Crane," he turned to her, his eyes meeting hers beneath that hideous mask. "I'm Scarecrow."

Harley grinned, she was starting to like this guy.

* * *

Taking out the guards on the way to Zsasz's cell was a breeze with Crane's toxin. Harley had managed to pick up a baton from one of the quivering wreck's they left on the floor, and could easily knock several guards to the floor if they rounded the corner before Crane got the chance to open his briefcase. Someone, somewhere, had sounded the alarm, and the siren blared. The lights had dimmed, but they could still see well enough.

"We're running out of time," Crane muttered.

"I know, the cops will be coming."

Crane shook his head. "It's not them I'm worried about."

 _The Batman._

Crane was right, a break out at the prison was definitely something the Batman would be called to put a stop to. Harley sped up, but had to stop when they reached a sharp corner. Harley glanced down the corridor, there were at least twelve guards waiting at the end, all talking hurriedly: clearly planning their next course of action.

Crane was at her side. "They're too far away," he whispered. "They'll see us coming and shoot us before we can release the toxin."

Harley's mind was racing as the siren blared. She didn't have time for this. Jonny would surely have freed the prisoners by now: and had probably already stolen the prisoner transport truck as they had planned. She needed to get Zsasz and get out of here.

"Wait here," Harley began, handing the baton in her hands to Crane. She straightened her wig, put her face mask in her pocket, then ran down the corridor towards the guards.

"Help!" She cried, stumbling on purpose as she ran.

"Freeze!" One of the guards yelled, raising his gun, but most of the others looked at her uncertainly. Harley got to her feet, sobbing. "Help me, please!"

"Who are you?" Another guard asked.

"Doctor Jokerman, I came here to assess a patient, but there's a crazy guy down there! He's got a knife!"

"Where?' The first guard asked.

"I'll show you, come on!" Harley ran, ignoring the cries of several of the guards to wait. She could hear them following her, and as she rounded the corner, Crane stepped out, opening the briefcase and releasing the toxin. Harley grabbed the mask in her pocket, hastily putting it on as clouds of smoke filled the air. Within seconds all guards were on the floor, panicking and screaming. Crane was leaning over them, taunting them.

"We don't have time for this," Harley argued, pulling Crane down the corridor.

* * *

When they arrived outside Zsasz's cell, Harley reached into her pocket, pulling out a small vial.

"What's that?" Crane asked.

"Explosive gel," Harley replied, shaking the glass flask and then applying the gel delicately to the lock on Zsasz's door. "From Joker's stash. You might want to step back." She and Crane moved back along the corridor.

BOOM!

The door lock blew clean off, and the cell door swung open easily. Harley grinned, playfully taking Crane by the hand. "Come on!" She pulled him into the dark cell, where Zsasz stood in front of his bed. He looked at Harley curiously, not seeming at all afraid. "Hello there, aren't we a pretty little bird? Oh I'd like to transform you-"

Harley pulled off her wig. "Well that sounds just lovely, Victor. But I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Zsasz's face contorted in anger at the sound of her voice. "You!"

"Nice to see you again," Harley smiled. "How's your back?"

Zsasz was actually shaking with rage. He made to run towards her, but Harley was quicker, sidestepping him, then striking him hard across the back of her legs with the baton. Zsasz went down. "I'd love to play, but we've got work to do." She gave Crane one more strike on the back for good measure. There was movement behind her, she turned to see Jonny arriving, followed by at least ten other guys in prison jumpsuits. Harley purposefully walked over Zsasz towards the door. "Scrape him off the floor and bring him with us," Harley ordered Jonny and the other men, not looking back.

"You know, I'm enjoying the new you very much," Crane said, pulling off his mask and joining her at her side.

* * *

 **Just a little extra note from me at the end guys, I had a guest review on the last chapter, which made an interesting point, but as it was made by a guest I couldn't send them a PM, so I thought I'd write on here! Feel free to skip the essay if you would like, though you may find it enlightening if you perhaps had the same view!**

 **The review was very kind, with one piece of constructive criticism: the guest said they thought the relationship between Harley and Joker had sped up a little too fast when compared to the slow-burn in the asylum. I appreciate all constructive criticism, and just thought I'd explain my thinking behind their relationship.**

 **Firstly, when writing the post-asylum chapters, I thought about Joker, and the way he does everything in his life: at the speed he chooses. I felt there was no problem with Joker going from single to in a committed relationship at a rather fast pace, because he never really plays by the rules, and is by definition, an impulsive being. Yes, he enjoyed the 'chase' between Harley and himself while in Arkham, but once out, he wanted to reap the rewards. Again, his impulsivity (not sure if that's a word!) takes over, and his game changes.**

 **With regards to Harley, I can see that things may be a little fast in terms of her personality (or Harleen's, to be more specific), but if we consider, for a moment, the movies, comics, and games, she falls for Joker very very rapidly. What I tried to do here was build their relationship a little more than we've seen in other media (putting in moments where he saves her etc, to build her trust and make her interest in him more believable), while still allowing her to have an element of the 'head-over-heels intense infatuation' at the same time. Harley Quinn is very different to Harleen Quinzel, and we know that she is similar Joker in terms of her impulsiveness. Now that Harleen has began to become Harley, some of her initial reservations are going to disappear. True, this Harley is still not quite like the one from the movies, so perhaps I will add some moments of her questioning her own actions, it's definitely something to consider!**

 **I am very grateful to the guest for their thoughts, and for the lovely things they said about my story. I really appreciate the viewpoint, and I just hope that even if you feel the romance has been a little fast, my explanation will at least clear up my motivations, and it won't seem like lazy writing on my part! The great thing about this site is being able to discuss why we choose to write in certain ways, and I hope my motivations here are a little clearer! :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks so much for the lovely reviews guys! Sorry this chapter has taken a little longer to come, things are still a bit up in the air with me. Grandad still holding on, I've been visiting him in hospital everyday, and now (because I'm just so lucky) I'm really ill. Starting to feel a bit better now, but it's been a tough couple of days!**

 **Hope you like the chapter, for anyone curious, the Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) in this story is very heavily based on Cillian Murphy's fantastic portrayal in the Batman movies. I love the smug, self-assuredness (is that a word?) that he brings to the role, as well as his quiet, calm persona.**

* * *

Joker had an interrogation room under the club. 'Interrogation room' might have been a generous name. It was more like a dungeon: dark creepy, containing a chair which you could strap people into, an old battered couch, a table, and some small cells/cages at the back.

It was perfect.

Zsasz was strapped to the chair, but refusing to talk, refusing to give any information about where he was taken to or how he escaped. But that was ok, because Harley had her own methods. In exchange for another vial of blood and a mouth swab (Crane had initially suggested swabbing a different area, but Jonny had practically shot him on the spot), she had convinced Crane to do a little 'work' with Zsasz.

Crane preferred to work alone, so after hanging around outside the door, listening to Zsasz scream for the past few hours, she had finally decided to try and get some sleep. Harley couldn't remember the last time she had actually had any. The night before her birthday party? It felt like a lifetime ago.

* * *

Harley was awoken a few hours later by a knock at the apartment door. Her eyes were blurry, and it took her a moment to remember why Joker wasn't beside her. Then it hit her like a train, and she found herself breathless for a few seconds. Finally Harley got to her feet, catching sight of herself in the full length mirror. She looked a wreck. She had clearly been crying in her sleep: her eyes were red and puffy, and make up was smeared down her face . She was wearing one of Joker's shirts, and a pair of his boxer shorts. Her hair was tangled, and needed to be washed.

Another knock at the door, brisk and short.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Harley groaned, padding over the thick carpet of the living room. She reached the door, pulling it open with a yawn.

Crane actually seemed to physically recoil when he saw her, his eyes widening. "Miss Quinn…You look….nice."

Harley rolled her eyes, leaning on the door frame. "Bite me, Crane. What do you want?"

"Your patient is finally willing to talk."

Harley nodded. "Give me a minute," she moved back into the apartment, leaving the door open.

"Take fifteen," Crane called after her. Harley rolled her eyes again.

"Asshole," she muttered.

* * *

After a quick shower, Harley dressed, plaited her hair, and cleaned her face. She followed Crane down to interrogation room/dungeon. Zsasz was still strapped to the chair, though now glistening with sweat, and watched them closely as they entered. His eyes soon fixed on Harley.

"Hello little bird."

"Good morning Victor. Doctor Crane said you're finally willing to talk to us."

"Yes. The good doctor is…persuasive."

Harley got straight to the point, standing in front of Zsasz with her hands on her hips. "I want to know about Penguin, about where he kept you. I want to know who else he has."

"The little bird looks different now, and this is not her home." Zsasz's tone was relaxed, almost lazy, as he glanced around the room. "Tell me, are you looking for anyone in particular?"

Crane looked at Harley, as if to say _"Don't tell him anything,"_ but Harley was past that kind of caution. "Yes, I'm looking for Joker." Crane rolled his eyes, sitting down on the battered couch.

Zsasz shook his head. "Such a waste."

"Tell me where Penguin's keeping his captives."

"First you have to do something for me."

Crane interrupted. "You said you were ready to talk."

"And I _have_ been talking. But now I want something in return." He looked at Harley, his usually frantic eyes calm. "Give me what I want, little bird, and I'll tell you all I know."

"What do you want?" Harley asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"To cut. To cut you."

"Ok, seems like the patient needs more extensive therapy," Crane sighed, getting to his feet and reaching for his mask. Zsasz interrupted him. "Use your poison all you want, Scarecrow, but my lips are sealed until her blood is on my knife."

Harley motioned for Crane to step aside and speak to her in private. "If we keep using your toxin, can we guarantee he'll talk?"

Crane ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, shaking his head. "It's not a truth serum. It makes people come face to face with their most terrible fears. It did what it was supposed to: it turned him into a quivering wreck, but he didn't tell me anything."

"And if we keep using it?"

Crane shrugged. "There's a good chance he'll lose what's left of his pathetic little mind." He glanced over at Zsasz, who was muttering to himself. "Which is hardly a significant loss."

"But then we have no chance whatsoever," Harley finished. She didn't wait for Crane to respond, turning back to Zsasz. "Where?"

He cocked his head, but said nothing, so she repeated herself. "Where do you want to cut me?"

"Wherever I want."

Harley held her expression. "You will not kill me." It was an order, not a request.

Zsasz snorted derisively. "You no longer deserve to be transformed. Your new self displeases me. I reserve my transformations for those who have earned it, like your lovely friend Doctor Cassidy. Where is she, now, by the way? She was not at home."

Harley ignored his question, shivering at the thought of Zsasz in Sarah's apartment. "One cut, not too deep, and not over any major arteries." Crane took hold of her arm, making as if to pull her away, but she shook him off. "That's the deal, take it or leave it?"

Zsasz smiled. "Let's begin."

* * *

Harley took a breath as she untied Zsasz from the chair. Crane stood back, holding a handgun and aiming it carefully. Zsasz climbed out of the chair and stretched. Harley heard his joints crack. He motioned for Harley to take her place on the chair, which she did, handing him a knife as she sat. She never broke eye contact.

"Miss Quinn-" Crane began in a quiet voice.

"Let's get this over with," Harley interrupted, her voice wavering a little.

Zsasz took a breath, circling the chair several times, surveying Harley's body. She wondered if this was for show, whether he had already decided exactly where he wanted to cut her. She looked up at his face, her stomach sinking when she saw a smile spread across his lips. He leaned in, gently grazing the tip of the knife against the bottom of her left cheek, but not cutting her.

"Here," he breathed.

Harley swallowed, trying to keep still. Zsasz hadn't cut her yet though, and just kept gently running the knife along her cheek.

"Will you just do it, already?" Crane said from the other side of the room, his voice angry.

Zsasz smiled once more, before cutting into her skin. The pain was worse than she imagined, sharp and bright and searing. She wouldn't scream though. She wouldn't allow him that.

After what seemed like an eternity, it was over. Harley felt the hot blood trickling down her cheek. Zsasz moved black, admiring his work. He ran his tongue over the knife, tasting her blood.

"Very sweet," he muttered. "Perhaps…Perhaps you _are_ worthy."

"No, she's not," Crane interrupted, gun still pointing at Zsasz. "Put the knife down." Zsasz glared at him, but did as he was asked, putting the knife down on the table. He stepped back, allowing Crane to approach Harley. His eyes widened when he saw her up close, but he quickly regained his usual composure. He reached into his briefcase, poured something onto a cloth, and dabbed her face. It stung.

"Couldn't have been on her arm or leg, I suppose?" He asked Zsasz in a patronising tone.

"No. It had to be the face."

"Of course it did." Crane drawled sarcastically. He leaned closer, whispering to Harley. "It's a clean cut, it could've been worse, but I'll have to stitch it."

She nodded, allowing him to get his tools from his bag. "Now," she said to Zsasz, still standing at the other side of the room, regarding the two of them. "Tell me what you know."

Zsasz watched Crane thread the needle with great interest. "They're at the museum."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Which museum?"

"This will sting a little," Crane said, gently inserting the needle into her skin. She winced, but kept her eyes on Zsasz. "Which museum?" She repeated.

"The Gotham Museum of Natural History."

"That place has been closed down for years," Crane said, sceptically, as he carefully stitched the wound on Harley's face.

"Which makes it perfect," she thought aloud.

Crane sighed. "This would be much easier if you stopped talking."

Harley ignored him, her adrenaline stopping her from feeling the pain. "Tell me what you saw."

* * *

" _We got a live one here_ _!_ _"_

" _Found him in an alleyway, gutting some poor vagrant."_

" _Get your weapons ready when we open the box."_

" _Shouldn't we wait for more guys?"_

" _They're dealing with Dent's men, they're getting too close to this place. Besides, this is just one_ _psycho_ _, we can handle it. Let's do this."_

 _Light_ _. L_ _ight pouring in as the doors of the crate opened. There they were, three men watching him, each holding…umbrellas? Two of the men were ordinary. One was perfect, he was worthy. The gleaming silver light encircled him. It told Zsasz that the man was ready, ready for his transformation._

 _Zsasz was quicker than them and their useless weapons, jumping at one and biting his nose clean off in one movement. He reached for the knife tucked away in the back of his pants, slitting the second man's throat. The third, the perfect one, was panicking. His weapon had jammed. He caught sight of Zsasz, his eyes widening, and dropped the umbrella on the floor, raising his hands. "Don't hurt me, you can go," he pleaded._

 _Zsasz smiled. "Shhh, shhh. Relax little_ _bird_ _, let me do my work."_

 _When it was done, Zsasz left through the door they had brought him in. He walked, didn't run, savouring the sweet relief of transformation. The blood was cooling against his skin in the evening air. But it was no good, the feeling never lasted long anymore, and now he would need to find someone else._ _Soon._

* * *

"The police caught you after that?" Crane asked, finishing his stitches.

"Yes."

There was a knock at the door, Jonny came in. He was holding a metal pole, but Harley had no idea why. "Everything ok, boss?" He asked, looking at the gash on her Harley's face. She nodded. "It's good. Please take Victor Zsasz and put him in a cell. I might need him again later."

Zsasz turned to face her, furious. "We had a deal!"

Harley shook her head, getting to her feet and talking to Zsasz like he was a child. "No, you wanted to cut me in exchange for information. I let you cut me, you gave me information. I didn't say I would let you go."

Zsasz made to flee, but Jonny was quicker, taking out the back of his legs with the metal pole.

 _So that's what it's for,_ Harley thought. Zsasz went down, and Jonny hit him on the head, rendering him unconscious, before dragging him into one of the small cells.

"That was…unexpected," Crane mused.

Harley shrugged. "He's too dangerous to let go." She got up from the chair, pacing the room. "Tell me about the museum, what do you know about the place?"

"It's been abandoned for years, as far as I know there were no plans to reopen it. I think it's derelict."

"How are we going to get in?"

"I say we opt for the more direct approach this time."

"I like your thinking. Wait," Harley raised an eyebrow. "'We'? You're coming with me?"

"I'm curious." Crane smiled. "I'll see you tonight." He turned, leaving the room. Harley glanced over at Jonny, securing the lock on Zsasz's cell. "I don't trust that one," he muttered, nodding at the door Crane had just left through.

"Neither do I," Harley admitted. "But he's useful."

* * *

Harley had dressed for the occasion: a tight pair of pants which had one red leg and one black. She wore a corset which was also half black and half red, but the opposite way around. She pulled her hair into high pigtails, blue tips on one side, pink on the other. She had chosen eyeshadow to match her hair, and added dark red lipstick. When Harley looked in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. She liked it.

There was a knock at the door, Harley went to answer it. There stood Crane, looking the same as always: suit, glasses, briefcase. This evening he didn't recoil at the sight of her, just smiled. "Well well, you're looking lovely this evening."

Harley decided the same response as earlier was appropriate. "Bite me, Crane."

Crane grinned, stepping into the room. It was only now that Harley noticed he was holding a baseball bat in his other hand. She raised an eyebrow, "I'm not sure we'll have time to get to your big game, sweetie," she said, mimicking a mother's tone.

"Hilarious," Crane drawled. "This is for you."

"I don't play."

"You were rather…skilled, with the baton in the prison. I thought you might like this for tonight." He held the bat out to her, and Harley was caught off-guard, feeling a little touched by the action. It was kind and thoughtful, and it made her uneasy. She didn't like to be in Crane's debt.

"What bodily fluids do you need in exchange for this?" She asked warily, not taking the bat.

Crane laughed, a short burst that ended as quickly as it started. It sounded genuine: possibly the first real, uncontrolled reaction she had ever seen from him. "No fluids required. It's a gift."

Harley accepted the bat, taking it gently. "Thanks," she mumbled, not sure what else to say. Luckily, it didn't seem that Crane was looking for anything else. "Shall we proceed?" He asked, and Harley nodded, enjoying the weight of the bat in her hands.

"Let's go."

* * *

When Harley, Crane, Jonny, and the rest of Joker's men arrived at the museum, they were in for a surprise. Harley jumped out of the van first, walking around to open the back doors to let Joker's men out. There were twelve of them, each one with his face painted in clown make up, or wearing a mask. A few of them glanced at her as they climbed out, but most were too busy getting pumped up. They all headed towards the main doors of the building, every man except for Jonny holding bats, poles, or other melee weapons. Harley was tougher now, that was true, but she still favoured non-lethal means if possible. The men were under strict orders: knock out, don't kill unless absolutely necessary. Most had accepted this, though there were a few unhappy voices. Luckily she had Jonny on side, and he got them in check quickly enough.

Harley saw that all the men had stopped at the front doors, and as she got closer, she saw five guys lying unconscious on the floor. They were Penguin's men, their umbrella weapons at their feet.

"What's this?" Jonny asked, looking at Harley.

Harley shook her head. "I don't know." But someone was tapping her arm. She turned, Crane was looking up at the sky, his eyes widening. Harley followed his gaze. There it was, clear as day, the bat signal. Joker's guys looked anxious, looking to her for leadership. "We follow the plan, get inside and find Penguin. Crane and I will get Joker." They nodded, heading into the building.

"Let's go," Harley said, looking to Crane. But he didn't move, standing further down the steps.

"I'm not going in there."

"What? Why?"

"I don't play with the Bat."

Harley's voice was playful, despite her own growing fear. "You scared of him?"

"I know better than to mess with him unless fully prepared."

"Are you bitter because he stopped you poisoning Gotham?" Harley remembered Crane's last plan to introduce his gas into the water supply. It had not gone well.

"I'm just not going in there." Crane paused. "You shouldn't do it either."

"I have to. You know that."

Crane looked disappointed, he turned, walking away.

"Crane!" Harley yelled. "Get back here!"

He didn't turn back, simply holding up a hand as he left. "Good luck, miss Quinn."

Harley groaned. When she pictured entering Penguin's base, she did not anticipate going alone. Still, she was here now, and Joker was inside somewhere. It was that thought that kept her going. She held tightly onto her baseball bat, took a breath, and headed inside.

* * *

She knew the plan: Jonny and the others were going to find Penguin: capture him if possible, but mostly distract him and his men. This gave Harley the chance to search for Joker. The museum had an intricate ventilation system, and Harley had studied the plans provided by Jonny so that she had some idea of where the different passages led. She looked to her left, there was the first vent cover, next to the welcome desk. She headed over, pulling the grate off, and climbed inside. The vent wasn't huge, she had to crawl on her hands and knees, but it was big enough, and she headed on through.

Harley had been crawling for about fifteen minutes. The vent was stuffy, and clouds of dust flew into her face as she crawled, but she was close to where she needed to be: the next opening was up ahead. She reached it, kicking the cover out, and climbing out into the open. Harley dusted herself off and stood up straight, looking around. There were several exhibits in this large room. Some of them contained wax models, cave men with spears standing by potted plants and stuffed animals. Some of them contained jars and pots gathered from digs and excursions. Then there were the others. Four of the exhibits contained living, breathing people. Two of them were sleeping, and Harley couldn't make out who they were, but she could see the other two clearly. It was Black Mask and The Riddler. They hadn't seen her yet, and she didn't feel ready to deal with a conversation with either of those two, but she needed to find out about Joker, so she headed over.

Black Mask just stared at her, growling a little, but Riddler watched her curiously. She made her choice.

"I'm looking for Joker," Harley said to Riddler, her voice as strong as she could make it.

"I've never seen you before, who are you?" He asked, his tone even and polite.

"Harley Quinn, and you're Riddler. I need you to tell me where Joker is."

"You're Joker's other half? How sweet." Riddler didn't look like he thought it was sweet, he was talking to her as though she was a child who had just shown him a terrible painting. "I'll tell you where he is, if you can answer three riddles for me. Let's see how clever you are, miss Quinn."

"Fine," Harley replied, deciding not to ask why his deal didn't involve her letting him out. For a self-proclaimed genius, surely this was a foolish mistake?

Riddler pondered for a moment, then began. "What belongs to you, but is used by others?"

Harley thought carefully. Luckily for her, she had loved riddles since she was a child: Uncle Pete used to test her with them all the time, she'd probably heard them all. This one was familiar, she tried to bring back the memory.

"What belongs to you, but is used by others," she repeated. "Your name!" Her voice was triumphant.

Riddler looked mildly irritated, but smiled politely. "Very good, next one: we're five little items of everyday sort; you'll find us all in 'a tennis court'."

"Easy," Harley answered quickly. "Vowels."

Riddler had to work harder to hide his displeasure here: he clearly hoped she would not be clever enough to answer.

"Well done," he answered through gritted teeth. "Aren't you _impressive?"_ A sly smile creeped across his lips. _"_ Ok, what walks on four legs, then two legs, then finally on three legs?"

Harley hadn't heard that one before, and her mind began to race. Riddler grinned, realising he had her beat. "Tick tock, Miss Quinn."

Suddenly, a flash of realisation hit Harley. "A person!" She said gleefully. "As a baby we crawl on four legs, then as an adult we use two, and as an old person we may walk with a cane." She grinned. But Riddler was still smiling, which made her feel uncomfortable.

"Wrong," he hissed. "The answer to all three is 'a baby'. True, it crawls on all fours, but cut off it's legs and it can wriggle on two limbs. Give it a crutch, and it can hobble around on three."

Harley felt sick, who thought like that?

"I'm afraid you lose," Riddler sighed. "And now I'm tired of you. Guards!" Suddenly he was yelling, and Harley ran, turning the corner and crawling back into the vent and out of sight. She took a moment to compose herself, clutching her baseball bat against her chest, before moving on down the vent, trying not to cough as the clouds of dust flew into the air. _"_ Crazy asshole _,"_ she muttered.

* * *

The vent was getting steeper, and the next time she came to a metal cover, she saw she was high up, near the ceiling of a large hallway. She stopped to catch her breath, realising she had absolutely no idea what to do now. There was a sound, and Harley peered through he grate. Her breath caught in her throat, it was the Batman! He was moving down the corridor, cape fluttering behind him. He was taller than he looked on tv, and more muscular. Her heart hammered. He wasn't after her, she told herself, he was here for penguin, and probably the other villains. He didn't know who she was.

 _But let's be honest, my outfit, baseball bat, scarred face, and the fact that I'm climbing through the vents suggests I'm probably not a lost tourist._

Batman was at a door on the left side of the room. It seemed to be locked, and he knelt down, getting a gadget off of his utility belt, and typing a code into it. Harley realised he was attempting to unlock the door. She watched curiously, could Joker be behind that door? What would happen if Batman got in there first? Then she saw something out of the corner of her eye: the door at the other end of the hall had opened, and someone silently entered the corridor. He was cloaked in shadows, but she could see it was a man, and he was raising a gun.

 _He's going to shoot the bat!_

 _That's not my problem._

 _You can't let him do that!_

 _Joker would be happy, he hates the bat._

 _But he wouldn't want him killed like this: it's not a fair fight. This guy hasn't earned it._

 _Plus, if he kills the Bat, then you might not be able to get into the locked room, and what if Joker's in there?_

Harley took a breath, kicking out the vent and dropping down onto the ground. She landed gracefully, a true gymnast. "Head's up, Bats!" She called, pointing at the door with her baseball bat. Batman spun, throwing a batarang at the figure in the doorway. He went down, firing his gun as he fell and missing Batman by mere inches. Batman marched over, leaning over the man and punching him once in the face, knocking him out. Harley followed him, looking at the body on the floor. Half of his face was horribly scarred and burned, as was half of his clothing.

"Two Face," Batman muttered. Then he turned to Harley, as if remembering suddenly that she was there.

"Who are you?" He asked sharply.

"The woman who saved your life," Harley replied, swinging her bat gently at her side, trying to pretend her heart wasn't hammering.

"Why are you here?" His voice was rough and gravelly.

"You first," Harley replied, nodding at Two Face. "You owe me."

"I'm here for Penguin, and to get these criminals back to Arkham."

"You can have them all, but Joker is mine," Harley insisted.

"You're here for Joker?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Aren't we a nosy bat?" Harley asked playfully, so sure he could hear her racing heart.

Batman didn't flinch. "I can't let you take him." His voice was certain, he was in no doubt about this. She saw his fingers twitch at his side, and realised what was happening. He wasn't going to let her take Joker, and he was already planning how to capture her.

She had to make a plan, and fast.


	24. Chapter 24

**Hi guys, thanks for the lovely reviews of the last chapter! And thank you for all the kind words about my grandad. I'm sad to say he passed away this morning. I know it's strange to be posting a chapter after that, but it was half written, and I've found finishing it today incredibly therapeutic. We had been waiting for him to pass, it was what he wanted, and he went peacefully in his sleep, so it was the best way to go.**

 **Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know, as so many of you sent me lovely messages when I mentioned he was ill, and it's really really touching to be a part of such a kind community. Thank you to all of you, and I hope you like the chapter.**

* * *

Harley clutched the baseball bat tightly in her right hand. There was no way she'd be able to swing at the Batman without him having enough time to hit her with one of those fancy Batarangs. Any move she made was being closely watched, and so she automatically stayed completely still.

"You need to come with me." Batman's voice was gruff and commanding, and Harley wondered if she had any other choice. But Joker was still here somewhere, and if she let the Batman take her she'd never find him!

Harley cocked her head to the side, plastering a grin on her lips. "You not gonna buy me dinner first, Bats?"

"No."

 _Huh, he doesn't do playful._

"Well alright," Harley shrugged. "But I'll have you know I won't be putting out." She moved closer, making as though to hand him the bat, but when he reached for it she took her moment and swung it hard, aiming for the side of his head. Unfortunately, he was faster, and caught hold of it in midair. He fought her for it, trying to pull the bat out of her hands, but Harley held on as tightly as she could. Then she kicked him hard in the stomach, and though he didn't release his grip, she heard him gasp as the air was knocked out of him. But Batman was tougher than that, and managed to wrench the bat from her grip, throwing it with a clatter to the floor. Within seconds his hand was around her throat, lifting her from the ground.

"You like it rough, huh?" Harley joked, despite her breathlessness. It didn't hurt too bad, she supposed Batman didn't like to hurt women? That was his mistake. She held on tight to the hand around her throat, lifting her legs to kick him once more in the stomach, this time with both feet. Batman stumbled back, releasing his grip on her. Harley gasped for air, but didn't give herself a second to pause. She crawled across the floor, making for her bat.

"Don't move." His voice was so sharp that she knew he was not to be fucked with now. Slowly Harley turned her head, he was aiming some kind of gun at her. She doubted very much it would kill her, it wasn't his style, but it probably wouldn't be pleasant.

"This will paralyze you for 24 hours," Batman confirmed. "I'd rather not have to use it."

"So would I."

Batman turned at the new voice. There was Crane, standing just a couple of feet away, wearing that terrifying mask. He held his briefcase in front of him, but it wasn't open yet. Crane cocked his head, and Harley knew he would be smiling beneath his mask. "Poor little Bat. Your evening is about to get a whole lot worse." Before Batman could turn and fire his weapon, Crane had opened the briefcase, sending a cloud of toxin straight into Batman's face. The Bat dropped the gun, thrashing his arms as if fighting off flying bugs. He was far enough away that the gas hadn't reached Harley, which was good because she had forgotten all about the mask in her pocket. Crane put down the briefcase, heading over and helping her to her feet.

"Thanks, Craney," Harley said playfully.

"Don't call me that." Crane took off his mask, he actually looked happy to see her. "I was feeling a little…uneasy about my choice to let you go in alone."

"I appreciate the help." Harley picked up her bat. She nodded at the briefcase. "Don't you need that?"

Crane shook his head. "I had to tinker a bit, the toxin I just released was extra concentrated, I needed to ensure it would work on the Batman. There's nothing left in there now."

"So I guess I'm the muscle from here on out?" Harley suggested, a little doubtfully.

"It looks that way, let's hope you can manage to stay on your feet."

Harley smiled. "I missed your sense of humour, Craney."

"You'll be missing more than that if you call me 'Craney' again."

He was probably joking, but just in case, Harley simply nodded. She pointed to the door in front of her, now unlocked thanks to Batman. "He might be in there."

Crane took hold of the handle. "Then let's go get your lover boy."

* * *

The two of them headed down a thin flight of metal stairs into the basement. It was dark, and Harley could hear water dripping from somewhere. She couldn't see much more than a few inches away from her face. "Is there a light down here?" She asked Crane, holding on to his shoulder so as not to lose him in the dark.

"I can't see one," he replied. "Do you think the clown is down here?"

"I don't know. He could be."

They had reached the bottom of the stairs, and now headed deeper into the room. Harley put her hands on the wall, running them along, searching for the light switch. She put her hand in something sticky and cold. "Eww, there's something slimy here."

"Well this place is just delightful."

"Aha!" Harley found a switch and flicked it on. Then she screamed.

Crane laughed, "Have you never seen a waxwork before?"

Harley scowled, punching the waxwork model of a Stone Age man which had made her jump, and pushing him away from her. "I didn't expect him to be there," she muttered. She glanced around the room, it was filled with disused models. Cave men, Victorians, Tudors, people from numerous other ages. There was something creepy and unnerving about this room: the stillness of the figures, their cold lifeless eyes, the dripping of the water. She continued further in, realising how unlikely it was that Joker would be here. Crane's voice drifted over, "Why are we wandering further into the room of nightmares?" Harley smiled, not answering. Not far ahead was a large metal vat. She peered inside, a little shocked to find a number of melted waxworks: their limbs mixed and reformed together. "That's creepy," she mumbled to herself.

"As charming as this place is, can we go somewhere else?" Crane asked, appearing at her side.

Harley nodded, "Yeah, he's not here."

Crane and Harley headed back upstairs. Jonny was at the door, looking as if he was about to head down. Batman was rocking in the corner, mumbling to himself and covering his eyes. Two Face was still knocked out.

"Boss," he began, looking at her expectantly. "Any luck?"

Harley shook her head. "No. Have you found Penguin?"

"He's put up a hell of a fight. He made a run for it and I chased him: our boys are still fighting his." He ran a hand through his hair. "I hoped you'd have found Joker by now, but if he's not here, then I think I might know where else he could be." He nodded back through the door he came through. "There are some offices through there, that's where Penguin went. The door is locked. I can probably get in, but I wanted to wait for back-up."

Harley nodded, motioning for Jonny to lead the way.

* * *

They found the door, and Jonny managed to break it open. She followed him inside, swinging her bat as she went. Crane wasn't far behind. The corridor ahead of them was dark. Harley flicked the light switch beside her, but nothing happened.

"He's cut the power," she muttered. She felt Crane take her hand, squeezing it in a way that was almost…reassuring? She didn't let go, taking hold of Jonny's shoulder with the other hand, and letting him lead her down the hall. There were several offices on either side of them, and Jonny used the light on his phone to illuminate each one. They were all unoccupied, but there was still one at the end of the hall. Harley's heart was hammering in her chest: this had to be it. If Joker wasn't in that room, he wasn't here at all, and if he wasn't here, then where was he?

The door was closed. Jonny went first, kicking it open and pointing his gun into the room. "That's close enough." Harley saw him, Penguin, or Cobblepot, whatever he was called. He was small, squat, and pointing an odd-looking umbrella at the three of them.

"You've got a death wish," he muttered. He looked tired, and more than a little roughed up. His tone was incredulous, as though he couldn't believe anyone would be so stupid as to march in there.

 _He has a point._

Penguin continued. "You break into my property, assault my men, set fire to my bedroom-"

Harley interrupted, "Woah, hold on! Ok, yes we broke in. Yes we assaulted your men. But we didn't set fire to anything!"

Jonny cleared his throat. "Uh, we might've…accidentally…"

Harley sucked her teeth. "Right, ok, never mind."

"Tell me why you're here," Penguin glared.

Crane pointed over to the right. "For him." Harley followed his gaze and took a sharp intake of breath. There he was! Joker was lying on a table, not far from Penguin, half in the shadows. Penguin turned on a lamp in front of him, fully illuminating Joker with the rest of the room. He wasn't moving, and seemed to be attached to a drip. Harley made to run over, but Crane pulled her back as Penguin's umbrella pointed at her. "Stop right there, princess!" Penguin called. "What do you want him for?"

"None of your damn business!" Jonny answered, his gun still raised.

Penguin waved him off. "I know why _you_ want him, you're his lackey, everyone knows that!" He pointed the umbrella at Harley again. "But why is she here? A new employee?" His eyes narrowed. "Or something more?"

Crane's voice was a drawl. "Yes, yes, she's his little clown wife, it's all very romantic, and I'd really like to go home, so can we get on with this?"

"What's wrong with him?" Harley pressed.

"There's a question," Crane muttered sarcastically.

"He's sedated," Pegnuin answered. "The clown's too dangerous to be kept conscious, that was Arkham's mistake."

Harley felt her body flood with relief. He was just sleeping, that was ok, though it did mean he would be harder to get out of there in a hurry.

"What do you want for him?" Harley asked.

Penguin shook his head. "No, he's my prize. He's worth more than anything you could give me."

Silence for a moment while that sunk in. Harley's mind was racing, what could she do? Then Crane spoke. "What about the Bat?"

Penguin raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"We're not the only ones here, the Batman did a rather good job of punishing your men too, no?" Crane grinned. "He's fallen victim to my fear toxin, and is a quivering mess not far from here. We can bring him to you?"

Penguin smiled. "You sure know how to paint a pretty picture. Tell you what, you bring me the Bat, and I'll consider giving you the clown."

" _Consider_?" Jonny repeated.

"Let's go," Harley interrupted. She nodded to Jonny. "He'll wait here."

"Don't you trust me, my dear?" Penguin asked, though he looked irritated.

"No. Not at all," Harley answered truthfully. She was aware she was still holding Crane's hand, and she pulled him from the room without another word.

* * *

"Well fuck."

Batman was gone. Two Face was still there, but no sign of the Bat.

"Fuck!" Harley repeated, kicking the wall.

"Yes, you mentioned that."

"Well, we're fucked! This is fucked! My whole life is fucking fucked!"

Crane stayed quiet, just watching her.

"Don't you ever get angry?!" Harley hissed.

"Not really."

"Do you ever _feel_ anything?!" She wanted a reaction, any reaction.

Crane paused. "Yes."

"Do you show it?!"

"Not in the same way you do."

Harley leaned against the wall, sliding down and sitting on the floor. "What are we going to do?" She choked, a feeling of hopelessness washing over her.

"Ugh, don't do that," Crane sighed.

"What?" Harley asked.

" _That_ , that sad little lost lamb thing. That's not you, not anymore. You're not Doctor Quinzel now, right? You're Harley fucking Quinn! What is Harley fucking Quinn going to do?" His eyes burned into hers, and slowly Harley felt that fire begin to blaze inside her. She got to her feet, clutching the baseball bat tightly. "I'm gonna get my Puddin' back!" She stomped back towards the offices, ignoring the bemused tone of Crane's voice.

"Puddin'?"

* * *

Harley marched into Penguin's office, where he was talking almost casually to Jonny. He turned to face her, his expression expectant. "Well?" He asked. He didn't get any further, because Harley immediately struck him swiftly across the stomach with her bat. He dropped to the floor, winded. She kicked away the umbrella. "Sorry, the Bat's gone, maybe next time. We've got to run, but this was great."

She waggled her fingers at Penguin, then nodded to Joker on the bed. Jonny unhooked the IV and lifted Joker, carrying him from the room. "Don't get up," Harley smiled, kicking Penguin once in the face, knocking him out as he fell backwards.

"Why hasn't he woken up yet?" Harley asked Crane, as she sat on her bed and watched Joker sleep.

"I don't know."

"Penguin said it was just a sedative."

"You think we can trust him?"

Harley ran her fingers through her now ragged hair. It had been a full 24 hours since rescuing Joker, yet he still slept soundly on the bed. Jonny was downstairs, keeping the men prepared in case Penguin launched a counter-assault, but as yet it was quiet. Crane had stayed with Harley, who only left Joker's side to use the bathroom. She had not slept, not eaten, and barely spoken a word. As if reading her mind, Crane put his hand on her shoulder. "You need to rest. Why don't you go and get some sleep? I'll stay with him."

Harley shook her head, "I'm not leaving him."

"Sleep here then."

"I need to protect him, what if Penguin-"

"I'll stay. I'll protect you."

Harley barely noticed the gentle tone to his voice, she was already lying down beside Joker, draping her arm across his strong chest. The rhythm of her breathing began to meet pace with his own. It wasn't long before she was asleep.

* * *

When Harley woke up, there was light coming through the window. She looked up at Crane, who looked exhausted, but was still sitting on the edge of the bed. Harley hurriedly sat up, observing Joker. She shook him gently.

"He's still unconscious," Crane confirmed.

Harley's stomach sank, but she said nothing.

"Go and have a shower," Crane began, then hurriedly added, "I mean, to help you relax."

Harley sighed, nodding. She got to her feet, momentarily taking Crane's hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks, Crane. I don't know what I'd do without you." He simply nodded, giving her a small smile. His smiles didn't look so smug anymore, and Harley wondered briefly whether it was because he wasn't like that now, or if she had just got used to it. Harley made her way to the bathroom, turning on the water and beginning to undress.

 _I should ask Crane if he wants to shower first, he's the one who's been up all night after all._ Harley wrapped a towel around herself and padded back to the bedroom. The door was still ajar, and as she approached, she saw Crane sitting closer to Joker, leaning over him. Was he talking to him?

Then she saw the syringe in his hand.

"What is that?"

Crane spun round, his face panicked. But when he spoke, his tone was balanced. "I drug, I'm wondering if it might help wake him up."

Harley didn't break eye contact. "I don't believe you. The way you turned so quickly, you didn't want me to see."

Crane said nothing. Harley moved closer. "Tell me the truth."

"I am."

"Fine." Harley joined him on the bed, snatching the syringe from his hands before he had time to react. She held it up to her arm. "Then you won't mind if I do this." She made to press the needle into her skin, completely genuine in her action. Crane jumped up as if electrocuted, slapping the syringe out of her hand. Her eyes blazed into his. "What was it?"

"Does it matter?" Crane's voice was defeated. "You know what I was doing."

"Why?" Harley asked, still disbelieving. Why would Crane try to kill Joker? After all this work?

"You know why." And right then Harley did: it hit her like a truck. The gift of the baseball bat, holding her hand, coming back to save her life, the gentle way he stitched up her face, even the way he was looking at her now.

Crane continued. "I've been slipping him more sedatives when you went to the bathroom or fell asleep, but this was my chance to finish it."

She shook her head, unwilling to say anything. Luckily, she didn't need to, because Jonny arrived at that precise moment.

"Anything?" He asked. She saw Crane notice the gun at Jonny's waist. She wondered if he was scared.

"He's still asleep," Harley answered. Jonny nodded, making to leave the room, but Harley called him back. "Wait. Jonny, take Doctor Crane downstairs please. To the cells."

"What?" Jonny was confused. Crane said nothing, he didn't look surprised.

"He was trying to poison Joker, trying to kill him." Harley couldn't meet Crane's eye, looking at Joker instead. She heard Jonny grab the doctor and pull him from the room. She chanced a look at the two of them and saw Crane throw her a look. It wasn't anger, it was disappointment. He didn't fight.

Harley stayed on the bed, so angry that Crane would do this to her, so angry with herself for not seeing it. Did she lead him on? Did she encourage it? Did she use him?

Maybe.

But she couldn't think about that now, she needed to focus on Joker. He was still sleeping soundly. She lay down at his side, wrapping her arm around his stomach once more, reassured by his steady breathing.

* * *

Harley didn't know how long she slept, but something made her wake. She wasn't sure what it was, some change in sound or pressure. She felt him before she saw him: his breathing had changed. Harley turned, and there he was: his beautiful grey eyes staring into hers.

"Harley?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Hi everyone, I'm so sorry for the long delay. Long story short, as well as my Grandfather passing away (thanks so much for all your kind words by the way), I'm also going through fertility troubles at the moment. Over the past few weeks it all got on top of me, and I developed massive writers block. I'm not saying all of this to get sympathy or anything like that, I just wanted to explain myself, as I pride myself on updating regularly, and I didn't want you all to think I'd just given up on the story or couldn't be bothered.**

 **Thanks for all your lovely reviews, and I hope you like the new chapter. I know it's not very long, but I wanted to try and imagine what the reunion would be like, and I hope I got it right. I also have some big ideas for the next few chapters, so hopefully will be able to shift the writers block which has hung over me like a massive weight!**

* * *

 _Don't cry don't cry don't cry._

"Hey baby."

That did it, Harley's eyes began to fill up, and it was all she could do to fling her arms around Joker's neck before he got the chance to notice.

"Mr J," she breathed, her lips at his ear. "I thought you were dead for sure."

Joker pushed her back gently, surveying her with his beautiful grey eyes. "Never." He answered assuredly. "It's good to see you baby. I wonder…do I have you to thank for my being here?" Harley nodded, and Joker grinned. "Not just a pretty face." Then he scowled, as if noticing something for the first time. Gently, he tilted her face to the side, running a thumb delicately across her cheek. She winced a little as his skin grazed the scar: her stitches still sore.

Joker's eyes blazed. "Who did this to you?"

"Zsasz," Harley muttered, leaning her cheek against his strong hand.

"He found you?"

"I found him."

Joker said nothing, but he had a way of looking at Harley that made her want to tell him everything, without him even needing to ask. She took a breath. "I broke him out of Blackgate, along with your boys. I needed him. He was the only one who could tell me where you were. He wouldn't tell me unless I let him… It's not that bad, it barely even hurt. And Crane stitched it up."

Joker raised an eyebrow. "Crane? The Scarecrow man was here?"

Harley nodded, unsure how much more to say right now. She decided to wait a while before telling Joker about all the things that had happened while he had been away. Instead, she got out of bed, reaching out and taking Joker's hand. He was still wearing the suit he had worn for her birthday celebrations, which felt like a lifetime ago. It was dirty and torn, but he somehow still managed to be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. "Let's talk later. Come take a shower with me."

Joker still looked mad, but his expression softened a little. "You know all the right things to say to me." He let Harley lead him from the bedroom into the bathroom.

The light in there was brighter, and Joker looked a little worse for wear: pale (even by his standards), gaunt, and bruised. Gently, Harley removed his clothes, trying not to let the shock at seeing his bruised and beaten body show on her face. Joker, as always, could read her mind.

"Not quite so pretty now, right?"

Harley answered by planting a long, chaste kiss on his dark lips. She felt a grin stretch across his face. "I dreamt of you," he whispered. She pulled away a little so she could see his face.

"You did?"

He nodded.

"What was I doing?"

Joker's grin widened. "Oh, wicked things."

Harley couldn't help but smile too. "Show me."

Joker moved forwards, just in his boxers now, slowly and delicately peeling off her clothes. When she was naked, he stepped back, just looking at her. Harley felt a little embarrassed. "Stop," she said, playfully covering herself with her hands.

But Joker wasn't feeling playful. He stepped forwards, pulling her arms down so she was exposed once more. She saw him hardening beneath the fabric at his crotch, and felt her pulse quicken. The fluttering between her legs was back with a vengeance, she wanted him, needed him, right now.

Joker clearly felt the same way, because without further pause he lifted her off the ground. Harley wrapped her legs around him as he carried her into the shower. He turned on the water, freezing cold, which made her gasp. Joker held her under the stream, laughing as she tried to wriggle out of the icy water. Harley found herself laughing too, playfully batting at his shoulders in her effort to get out of the cold. Joker flicked the temperature switch and the water immediately warmed. His eyes locked onto hers, and Harley was suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. She felt the tears slide freely down her face, hoping the water would mask them.

"Baby, baby, baby," Joker wiped his thumb against her cheek, even though the tears had already washed away. "Shhhh."

"I thought I'd never see you again," Harley admitted for the first time. Though she had told herself she would get him back, made plans, been tough, the fear had always been there in the back of her mind. What would she have done if he'd never come back? She couldn't be alone, without him, not any more. He was part of her now: the other half of her damaged soul. Without him, she couldn't be.

"I'll always come back to you," Joker insisted. Harley wrapped her arms even more tightly around his neck, half expecting this all to be a dream. She would not let him go, not again. She pressed her cheek against his as she held him (or rather, he held her).

"I missed you," he whispered in her ear, barely audible above the running water. Was that one of the most heartfelt things he had ever said to her? It certainly felt like it. She pulled back from his neck, looking into those beautiful eyes.

Harley was going to say it again. There was no point trying to stop herself.

"I love you."

Joker grinned, that trademark smile that frightened and excited her at the same time. "I love you too."

And at that moment, Harley didn't care about the scar on her face. She didn't care about the two psychopaths locked up in the dungeon downstairs. She didn't care about the fact that she had made a dangerous enemy in Penguin. All that mattered was that she was here, with the man she loved, and he loved her right back.

Nothing would ever separate them again.

* * *

"Get dressed," Joker said, rolling over in the bed beside her. His hair was ruffled in that way she loved. She wasn't surprised: they'd been awake for only a few hours, and had been unable to keep their hands off each other for the entire time. Harley was sore from top to toe, but also felt safer and more content than she had in days.

"Why?" She yawned, turning to face him, not noticing that the sheet had dropped a little, revealing her breasts. Joker however, did notice, and leaned down to plant an oh-so gentle kiss on her nipple. It tingled, hardening beneath his touch.

"Not again," Harley whispered, "I don't think I could take it."

Joker grinned. "Come on, we need to get up anyway."

"Why?" Harley asked, making no attempt to move.

"We've got some business to attend to this evening," Joker began. "And I need my best girl beside me."

Harley yawned. "But I'm so tired." She was putting it on a little, exaggerating her yawn and stretching out dramatically. The sheet slipped a little more. Joker smiled again. He reached out, gently cupping her breast.

"Well, I suppose if we're not going anywhere…" His eyes glittered wickedly. "What would this be, round eight?" He brushed her nipple, still sore from earlier, gently. Harley was conflicted, on the one hand she couldn't resist him, on the other she felt like she was in genuine danger of tearing in half if they did it again.

"Fine," she muttered, defeated. "You win, I'll get up." She turned over and got out of bed. She heard Joker laugh a little to himself from the bed.

"I'm not sure that I feel like a winner now."

Harley grinned, shuffling across the room to the wardrobe. She may have been exaggerating before, but she actually was tired. She also had no idea what time it was. There were no clocks in the apartment: time seemed to play no part in Joker's life. Still, she was awake enough, and there was a part of her that couldn't wait to go down to the club with Joker: to walk in with him and sit beside him and just be his.

Harley caught sight of herself in the mirror: she was not a pretty sight. This was going to take some work. She began by trying to tame the tangled mess of her hair.

* * *

A couple of hours (she assumed) later, Harley was in the club, sitting on Joker's couch beside him. It wasn't too full tonight, but there were enough people for it to be hot and noisy down there. The music blared, and the dancers were putting on their shows. Everyone seemed happy the boss was back, but none of them came over. Harley knew they were all afraid of him.

Joker looked great tonight: wearing a maroon coloured suit with a white shirt. He wore a gold watch (though Harley noticed it had no hands), and had a gun holster on his chest. His hair was neatly slicked back, and he smelled fantastic. He removed his jacket, and put his arm around Harley's shoulders.

Harley was wearing her favourite diamond checkered dress, and had her hair down. Her lipstick was dark, her eyes smokey, and she wore heels she could barely walk in. Luckily she didn't plan to walk much tonight, and she knew Joker would probably carry her if she wanted: she'd just have to get him riled up enough. That wasn't too hard.

Harley leaned her head against Joker's shoulder. She was content, happy. It was times like this she sometimes wondered how she had managed so long without him. Her old life had been so static, so boring, what had kept her going?

"You ready?" Joker asked.

"For what, Puddin'?" She asked playfully.

Joker snapped his fingers, and Jonny appeared as if from nowhere, pulling Zsasz by his tied hands, and dropping him onto the floor in front of them. Harley sat up straight, looking at the vile creature.

Joker got to his feet. "Victor, Victor, Victor."

"Hello Joker." Zsasz' voice was without a hint of fear. Was he scared of nothing? No one?

Joker's tone was balanced. "Victor, you and I go back a long way. Over the years we've spent more time than I care to remember in maximum security down in Arkham. We've crossed paths on the outside, and though I never quite understood your…compulsions, I always admired your spirit." His gaze narrowed, and he pointed to Harley. "But you cut my girl, and it's not the first time you've tried to hurt her. I can't have that." He reached into the holster at his chest and pulled out his gun.

"You can't kill me with that," Victor said in his sing-song voice. "I transcend those pitiful weapons. I'm only here to transform those who are truly worth-" He was interrupted by Joker shooting him between the eyes. Zsasz stayed on his knees for a moment, then fell backwards. Joker moved closer, leaning over him, a hand cupping his own ear.

"What was that? I missed the last part." He rolled his eyes. "Never mind, it was probably fucking crazy anyway." He nodded to Jonny to drag Zsasz away.

Harley felt like she should be in shock, but she wasn't. She wouldn't have expected anything less from Joker, and besides which, she was pleased. She was glad the psycho was dead. Hell, she'd tried to kill him more than once herself. If anything, she was a little disappointed she hadn't been the one to do it.

"Time for the next one," Joker said, sitting beside her, and suddenly Harley's stomach sank. Joker continued. "I'm a little confused as to why you had Crane in the cells. He stitched your face to help you, yes? I know he's a little, strange…" Joker grinned at that. "But, I still don't understand."

"He tried to kill you," Harley answered. There was no point lying: she couldn't lie to Joker, and he'd know she was doing it anyway. "He helped me rescue you, I thought he was my friend, then he tried to kill you."

Joker seemed to be thinking, but had no time to ask any further questions, as the prisoner was now in front of them. Crane was pushed to his knees, and kept his eyes on the floor.

"Evening," Joker began.

Crane looked up at Joker, ignoring Harley. "Hello."

Joker got up, circling Crane. "I gotta say, I'm a little bit….wait, what should I call you? John? Crow-boy?"

"Doctor Crane is just fine."

Joker shrugged. "Alright, so Doc, I'm a little confused."

"Given what I know about you, that's hardly surprising." Harley was astounded to hear the smug tone was still right there in Crane's voice, even when faced with the most dangerous criminal in Gotham. What was he doing?

But Joker just grinned. "Fair point, let me clarify then. My lovely lady right here said you tried to kill me. But that was after helping her save my life. So I don't know whether to thank you, or kill you. Or should I do both? Help me out here, doc."

"Well I would much prefer the former to the latter."

Joker sat down beside Harley. "Why did you try to kill me?" His voice was not angry, not even a little irritated. He simply sounded curious. Crane didn't reply, but his eyes flicked to Harley. It was only for a second, but it was enough. Joker looked at Harley, then back at Crane.

"Ohhh. I understand." He got to his feet. "Got a little crush on Miss Quinn, do you, doc?"

To his credit, Crane didn't deny it. He simply stared straight ahead, as if he was bored with the conversation.

"Or is it more than that?" Joker continued, his eyes boring into Crane. "More than a crush, something bigger than that." He paused, cocking his head to the side. "Do you love her?"

"Yes."

Harley felt her eyes widen.

 _What the Hell is this? How could he love me? He barely knows me! And why the fuck would he admit that in front of Joker?! Surely he knows he's about to be killed?!_

But then Joker surprised her once more. He laughed. A long, loud, sharp laugh.

"Well isn't that something?" He said when he had finally stopped laughing. "Little old me takes a nap for a couple of days, and Harley's already getting declarations of love."

Crane was looking at her now, but Harley refused to make eye contact. She was furious. How dare he say that? He didn't know what love was! Joker followed Crane's gaze.

"I gotta say, doc, I understand. Trust me. She's something special. Ever since I met her in Arkham, I knew I couldn't leave that place without her. Harley's like a drug: one hit is never enough." He paused, directing his question at her now. "You love him?"

Harley shook her head. "No."

Joker held up his hand. "Don't answer too quick now, baby. I don't want to stand in the way of something here." He sounded playful, but she could see the fire in his eyes. He was pushing himself, his dangerous persona had taken over: forcing him to act like he didn't care, when they both knew he did.

"I don't love him," Harley repeated. "I liked him. We were friends. Then he tried to kill you."

Joker shrugged. "You heard the woman."

Crane was staring ahead now, looking at no one. "Yes I did."

"How does that make you feel, _doctor_?"

"Do your worst, clown. I'm in no mood to play your games."

Joker reached for his gun, put it to Crane's head. Harley closed her eyes. There was a pause.

"BANG!" Joker yelled, laughing. Harley opened her eyes, Joker was putting the gun away. "I could never kill someone just for falling for Harley. Hell, I'd have to kill half the guys she meets." Joker seemed to ponder for a moment. "Though I suppose….No, too much trouble." He reached down and untied Crane's hands. "You can go."

Crane got to his feet, and Joker leaned in, whispering something in his ear. His expression had changed: it was hard, cold, viscous. Crane nodded, then turned and left, without one glance at Harley.

Joker came to sit beside her.

"What did you say to him?" Harley asked, not sure she wanted to know.

Joker looked at her, his face serious. "I told him what would happen if he came near you again."

"Which is?"

Joker smiled but didn't answer.

Harley didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed that he had let Crane live. But she didn't have long to think about it, because Jonny had appeared again, as if from nowhere.

"Boss, it's time."

Joker glanced at Harley. "Give me a minute," he said to Jonny, who nodded and left.

"What's happening?" Harley asked.

"Something came up earlier, a new development in a plan I've been working on for months. Jonny and I were going over the details while you were getting ready. It's important, but it's complicated, and I need your help."

Harley nodded. "What is it?"

"I need you in Arkham Asylum."

Harley was confused. "You want me to go back? Be a doctor again? I can't, they have to know what happened by now."

Joker shook his head.

"No. I don't need you to be a doctor. I need you to be a patient."


	26. Chapter 26

**Hi everyone! Hopefully I'm shaking off this writer's block, as this is my second chapter in two days! I hope you like it, very Harley focused, but I wanted to see a bit of her working on her own, without having someone to hold her hand (quite literally, most of the time!). Thanks to all who left a review on the last chapter, and to everyone who reads/follows/favourites. It makes my day when I see new followers or reviews etc!**

* * *

"You want me to what?"

"I want you to go back to Arkham Asylum, but as a prisoner."

"Why?" Harley's head was spinning, nothing made sense. She and Joker had just found each other again, yet he was in such a hurry to break them apart? And what reason in the world would be good enough to send Harley back to the Asylum of all places?

Joker ran a hand through his hair. "Baby, I don't have time to explain it all, not now. I just need you to trust me." His steel eyes blazed into her. "Do you trust me?"

Harley didn't pause, even though she knew the weight of her answer. "Yes."

Joker smiled. "Good. We don't have much time, let's go."

* * *

Harley had hurriedly changed into her red and black contrast outfit, and tied her hair into pigtails. On her way out of the door she had grabbed her baseball bat. Joker didn't ask where it had come from, but he did look at it for a little longer than would be deemed 'normal'. She wasn't ready to tell him it had been a gift from Crane: not yet at least.

Though she had yet to find out why Joker needed her in the asylum, she had at least discovered why there was such a big hurry: Batman was nearby. Unlike Gotham PD, who didn't know their ass from their elbow, the Batman would recognise Harley as a significant threat, and would take her directly to Arkham Asylum. If she just let herself get caught by the cops, she could spend weeks in jail awaiting psychoanalysis, and apparently there wasn't time for that. It had to be Batman who caught her, and now, with him just a few blocks away, was their best chance.

"Riddler is causing mayhem downtown," Jonny said as they sped away in the car. Harley sat in the back with Joker, clutching the baseball bat tightly. "I'm gonna get you as close as I can, then all you've gotta do is let him find you."

"You think he'll remember me?" Harley asked, straightening her shirt.

"Who could forget you?" Joker grinned.

Harley tossed him a scowl. "I'm still mad at you Mr J. I have no idea what I'm doing or why. What if I get stuck in that place? I saved you from Penguin, and it feels like you're throwing me to the wolves."

Joker just looked at Harley for a moment, then grabbed hold of her shoulders, pulling her in for a long, passionate kiss. When he finally pulled away, Harley was breathless.

"What did I say to you earlier?" Joker asked, his expression stern.

"You said a lot of stuff…"

"You know what I'm talking about."

Harley met his gaze. "You said you will always come back to me."

"And?"

"And you love me."

"Did you believe me?"

"Yes."

"Do you still believe me?"

"…Yes."

"Then what do you have to worry about, sweetheart?" He grinned and Harley couldn't help but mirror it. The car was slowing now, pulling up outside Gotham bank. Harley looked at the time on the huge clock outside: 9.00 AM.

Harley gave Joker one last scowl, but it was unconvincing. "Ok, but you better come get me soon. You don't want me turning into one of the crazies they've got in there."

Joker grinned again. "Heaven forbid."

Harley leaned in, giving him one more kiss. Her tongue met his, gently swirling around it's tip. She felt his breath quicken, reached to stroke the hardening spot between his legs. It didn't matter that Jonny was only a couple of feet away, it was just the two of them that existed in Harley's world. Just as Joker's breathing intensified, Harley pulled away.

"Be good, Puddin'," she smiled, stepping out of the car.

Joker leaned out of the window. "Harley Quinn, I'm crazy about you."

She blew him a kiss, swinging the baseball bat delicately in one hand.

"You might want this." Jonny leaned out of his window, passing her a handgun.

"Thanks," Harley replied, tucking it into the back of her pants. "See ya later boys." She turned, heading through the large glass doors of the bank.

* * *

Two security guards, that was it. They stood together near the entrance, both seemingly confused about the girl in red and black carrying the baseball bat. Harley decided to ease their confusion quickly, taking out the gun and firing a shot into each of their legs. They went down, and suddenly sounds erupted all around her. Someone had triggered an alarm, and people were panicking. Harley shot at the ceiling, and everyone froze.

Harley cleared her throat, cocking her head to one side. "Hi everyone. Sorry about this, I need twenty dollars for my cab, is this the right place?" She moved towards the tellers at the end of the room. She used her baseball bat to gently move people out of her way. "Sorry, I just hate lines," she smiled. A few civilians were edging towards the doors, but that was fine, more people running out into the street meant more chance of being caught.

Harley skipped towards the teller. "I forgot my card, I know my PIN number ends with a seven though." She flashed a winning smile.

The woman on the other side of the glass looked both confused and afraid. Harley continued slowly, as if talking to an infant. "Can I have my money?"

The woman appeared to be frozen. Harley rolled her eyes, immediately breaking the glass with her baseball bat. More screaming, more running. The teller got to her feet and bolted. Harley leaned through the broken glass.

"Can I please speak to the manager? I'm not feeling satisfied with the service I've received." She grinned, climbing through the gap, and using the baseball bat to smash up the computers behind the counter.

"Freeze!" Harley turned around, another security guard had arrived. "Stay right there!" He said, aiming his gun at her.

Harley held up her hands, still holding onto the bat with one of them. "Don't kill me," she began in a small voice, before smiling. "I'll be your best friend."

In the second it took the guard to register her reply, Harley had already swung the bat, knocked the gun out of his hands, and kicked him hard in the stomach. He went down, and she struck him once more with the bat, knocking him out.

 _I could kill him._

 _No, I don't need to. Besides, I don't want blood on the bat._

Harley cartwheeled over to one of the smashed computers. "Hmm," she muttered. "I think we need to call someone, guys, this computer has frozen." The screen was smashed to bits, the computer itself had a huge baseball bat shaped dent. Harley held down ctrl alt del on the keyboard. "Nope, definitely broken!" She called to no one in particular.

"Quinn."

Harley turned around, that was the voice she had been waiting for.

"Hi Batsy," she smiled, waving with the fingers on her bat-free hand. "Nice to see you, are you feeling better? You looked a little sick the last time we met."

Batman's face was like stone. "No Scarecrow this time?"

"We're on a break," Harley replied.

"No Joker either."

Harley shrugged. "I'm having some me-time. If you can't love yourself, how are you gonna love anyone else, right?"

Batman didn't answer, but he stepped closer. "You're coming with me, Quinn."

Harley raised an eyebrow, "Can you promise that? Don't get me wrong, but you strike me as the kind of guy who usually comes first."

Not even a smile. "I'm taking you to Arkham Asylum. It's where you belong."

"Been there, didn't care for it. It's always cold, the food sucks, and you wouldn't believe how many crazy people there are!"

Was that a flicker of a smile? No, Harley must've imagined it. "Are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?"

Harley pretended to consider that. "That's a toughie Bats. Do me a favour, say 'hard' again. I like how it sounds."

Did he just roll his eyes? Was Harley actually getting to him? She grinned. "I'm just messing with you Bats. I'll come easy. Trust me, I do, just ask Joker." She held out her hands, dropping the bat and allowing herself to be shackled.

"You can make em' tighter if you want," she said, looking up into Batman's eyes. Brown, pretty enough. "I don't mind a little pain."

"Good to know." Was that sarcasm? Man the Bat was hard to read. He led her from the bank and outside, where his car was waiting.

"Nice ride," Harley grinned, nodding at the Batmobile. "You get many girls in here Batsy?" He didn't reply, simply pushing Harley into the passenger seat. He moved round, getting into he drivers seat himself. Harley reached for her door handle with her tied hands. Locked. Batman looked at her and she shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying."

* * *

They had been driving for about ten minutes. Batman drove fast, they would be at the Asylum soon. Harley was nervous: she had no idea what was going to happen after she got there. The problem for Batman was: when Harley got nervous, Harley talked. A lot.

"And that's always been my problem," she continued, having talked non stop for pretty much the entire journey. Batman had said nothing, his eyes never leaving the road ahead.

"It's like I get these big ideas in my head, but it never really works out. It happened years ago when I came down here. 'Be a Doctor,' I told myself. 'Help the crazies find themselves'. Ha! Big mistake, now I'm one of them! I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Joker, I love the clothes - how cute is this outfit by the way? - I love getting to be who I truly am…I mean, I was smashing up a bank for crying out loud! But like, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I'd have done something different with my life."

No reply, so Harley continued. "I know what you're thinking. 'What else could she do?' Well let me tell you Bats, I've got other skills. I can dance pretty good, I'm great at running. I tried that free running thing too, and it was awesome! Can't swim, like, at all, but maybe I could learn?"

Was Batman gritting his teeth? She hadn't intended to get on his nerves, but it seemed like she was doing a pretty good job at it. That might be more fun than just talking for the hell of it?

"So, Batsy," she began, leaning closer. "How's it going? Busy night? I heard Riddler was causing some trouble, and I can't help but notice that he's not in the car with us. Did he get away?"

No reply.

Harley put on a sympathetic tone. "Don't worry about it, honestly. All men have performance related issues at some point. It's natural and normal, and the girls won't think any less of you." She paused. "Well, some might, but they're not the good ones anyway." She thought for a moment. "It's kind of wrong to say _no one_ cares though, it's like when girls say 'size doesn't matter'. Sure, it _shouldn't_ , it _should_ be all about what you do with it, or how much of a great guy you are but….well, let's put it this way: on a hot day would you rather have a popsicle or an ice cube in your mouth?"

Did the car speed up then? Was he trying to drive even faster just to be rid of her?

"Exactly," Harley replied to the silence. "We like to pretend things like that don't make a difference, but they do. And if you've got a popsicle that you know how to use properly, well that's even better. I tell you, Joker does this thing. I don't even know how it works, where he, like, gets my leg in the air with one hand, then he slowly-"

"We're here!" Batman slammed on the breaks, his voice sounding more relieved than she had ever heard before. He hurriedly got out of the car, moving round to pull her out too.

Harley looked up at the buildings, grim and unpleasant even in the daylight. Clouds formed overhead, and the first smatterings of rain began to fall. Batman pushed her towards patient processing, and now Harley didn't want to talk. This was the part she had been dreading. Was she really about to go back into the Asylum, as a patient?

* * *

Processing was fast. When you arrive with Batman, there's not a lot else that needs to be done. Despite her changed appearance, they knew who she was after looking up her fingerprints on the system. Harley saw the faces of the nurses drop when they realised that the woman in front of them used to be the nervous Doctor Quinzel who had disappeared with the Joker…was it nine or ten days ago? It felt like a lifetime, and the asylum itself felt so different. Though perhaps that was just because she was viewing it through the eyes of a patient?

Harley was led away from the Batman, and she called over her shoulder. "See you soon Batsy! Remember what I said, it happens to all guys, don't worry!" Did he grit his teeth? A couple of the nurses tittered at her comment.

 _He's great, we should chat more often._

She was still cuffed, and taken to the first part of patient processing, where she had to shower and change into her orange pants and t-shirt, standard patient attire. She eyed them unenthusiastically as the orderly held them out to her. "You got any other colours?" She asked, knowing full well they didn't. "I just think orange makes me look a little puffy, you know?" No response from the orderly, who simply shoved the clothes into her hands and watched her get dressed.

 _No privacy from now on,_ Harley thought with a sigh.

Next she was taken to the medical building, where she was poked and prodded. Blood was taken, she was swabbed in places she would rather have kept un-swabbed, and she had to answer a series of medical questions. The doctors seemed relatively surprised that she was answering their questions honestly, Harley knew most of the patients could barely remember their own names, let alone the family history of the last three generations.

A new Doctor arrived, young and relatively handsome. He had not been at the asylum when Harley worked there. He had brown hair and green eyes, and smiled at Harley with shining white teeth.

"Why couldn't he have done my Pap smear?" Harley asked the nearest nurse, whose eyes widened at the question. Harley continued, "Should we do it again? Maybe I've got more pap?" The nurse looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her skull, and Harley laughed. The doctor's smile grew, but he seemed to be trying to hide it as he looked over her notes. Harley was strapped to the bed.

"Miss Quinzel, would you like to be called that? Or Harleen?"

"Harley is fine, doc."

"Harley then. I'm Doctor Adams, and I'll be your physician while you're at Arkham. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. I haven't had this many people with their hands on me since I was in college."

Another smile from the doctor. "Well I'm glad your sense of humour is in tact. You'll be taken to your cell in a few minutes, but if you ever have any concerns regarding your physical health, then please don't hesitate to let me know."

He squeezed Harley's shoulder, for a little too long. And did his eyes linger on her chest as she was untied from the table? Harley internally rolled her eyes, of course there had to be a flaw with the handsome, seemingly charming doctor. To work here, you had to be some kind of freak or sexual deviant.

 _I used to work here too._

 _What does that say about you then hon?_

* * *

Harley's cell wasn't like Joker's. She wasn't down in max, which was a little comforting. Her cell was small, but it had a bed, a desk and chair, a toilet, a sink, and a window. She actually had a window! Yes the glass was reinforced, and yes there were bars in front of it, but the natural light was soothing. Due to the fact that she had no criminal record, Harley was also not going to be locked up in her cell for most of the day: she was allowed to walk around the ward, and spend time outside too.

She just wished she knew what the hell she was doing here.

Harley took some time to look around. Her ward consisted of a huge room in the middle, with several hallways containing patient bedrooms coming off of it, like the legs of a spider. In the communal area there was a tv and some chairs, a reading area, some tables, and a dining space. There seemed to be around twenty five women all living together in this ward. She had never been to this part of the asylum before, never seen so many patients all mixed together. There were a few who paced agitatedly, some talking to themselves or hitting their heads against the walls, but many seemed perfectly normal: talking in small groups or watching tv. A few glanced at her as she walked in. Most gave her curious looks, but then the whispers started to spread.

"She used to work here."

"You're kidding?"

"She looks too crazy."

"What's up with her skin, is it make-up?"

"Fuck, I heard that's Joker's girlfriend!"

"You're shitting me?!"

"If she's with Joker, she's dangerous."

"What's she doing here?"

"You thinks he dumped her?"

"She should be in max!"

"Don't look at her!"

And that was how it went. For the rest of the day, until lockdown, no one dared look Harley in the eye. Even the patrolling guards looked a little edgy as they passed her. She didn't mind, not really. It was better than being picked on. This place reminded her of the documentaries about women's prisons she had watched, and she was in no mood to be shanked or slocked or whatever else women locked up together did. Still, it was a little lonely.

* * *

In her cell that evening, Harley laid on her small, hard bed and felt the tears begin to fall.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" She whispered to herself. She wiped her cheek, looking out of her window up at the moon. Joker was out there somewhere, free. Was he thinking of her? Or was he down in the club having a great time, forgetting she was even here?

Something landed on Harley's hand. She shook it automatically, thinking it was a spider. Then she sat up, looking at the floor. A small, yellow flower sat on the concrete. Slowly, Harley got up, reaching down and picking up the flower. She looked around her sparse room. Where had it come from?

Harley looked up, there was a grate on the wall of her room, presumably leading into he room next door. Harley stood on her bed to get a better look, and as she did, another flower fell through the gaps in the metal.

"Hello?" Harley whispered.

"Hello." A woman's voice: soothing and gentle. She reminded Harley of a woman who had massaged her once, who spoke as if trying to send you to sleep.

"Who is this? Why are you pushing flowers through he grate?"

"I didn't realise they were coming through. I apologise."

"You didn't… That's ok. What's your name?"

"Ivy."


	27. Chapter 27

**Things have been more than a bit manic these past few weeks, but I finally managed to finish the chapter! I hope you like it, big things are building, despite this chapter being more dialogue based :)**

 **Thanks to all for your lovely reviews, follows, and favourites!**

* * *

A week. Harley had been a patient at Arkham for a week. During her (so far uneventful) stay, she had learned a few things about the asylum that she had not known when she was a doctor.

Firstly, being a patient was boring. Harley spent almost all of her time in the large ward for the 'medium security' patients. That meant the women in with her were dangerous enough not to be allowed onto the regular wards, but not so dangerous that they needed isolation down in max. The ward wasn't entirely hideous: she could read, watch tv, or spend some time in the garden, but that was pretty much it. And after realising most of the books on the bookshelf were self-help or written in Spanish, and finding out that there was one large woman in charge of the tv channels, and to cross her was the equivalent of holding a sign saying "I don't need my kneecaps anymore", Harley soon ran out of things to occupy her time. The garden was fine, but small, and seeing as how it had rained for the past five days, she had little interest in being outside. Harley had never realised how boring being clinically insane actually was.

Secondly, everything happened at a snails pace. Though Harley had been here for a week, she had yet to be assessed, and had not spent any time at all with a psychiatrist. Not that she was in a hurry to have someone poking around in her head, she'd done enough of that in her time, but it was a little strange to be in an asylum for the insane, without anyone actually diagnosing her as such.

Thirdly, living in Arkham was like living the same day over and over again. Everything repeated. Like this morning for example: Harley was woken up at 7AM by the siren sounding. She got out of bed and marched towards the showers with the other women. She showered in the cold water, with a sliver of slimey soap and a squirt of shampoo that smelled like bleach, then had to dress in her orange uniform and go to breakfast. Breakfast was, of course, the same every morning: a bowl of mush that she assumed was meant to be porridge. She usually had to examine it first, picking out a stray hair or two. On one particularly exciting morning she had no hairs at all, but halfway through her meal had discovered what looked like a fingernail, which in retrospect made the hairs not seem quite so bad.

As the other patients filed in to the dining area, all of them giving Harley a wide berth, she watched as Elizabeth threw her bowl against the wall, as usual, and was restrained by guards, as usual.

"Lizzie's making progress I see," said a sultry voice from behind her. Harley turned around, Ivy smiled, nodding her head towards Elizabeth at the other side of the room, who was now trying to slam her own head into the wall. She was strong, and the two guards were working hard to pull her away. Ivy moved round, taking a seat opposite Harley.

"I don't know why they give her a bowl every morning," Harley replied, frowning.

"Maybe it's for our benefit," Ivy suggested. "Something to watch, take us away from the monotony for a couple of minutes."

"Maybe." Harley pulled a long black hair from her porridge.

"That's a keeper," Ivy grinned, her own long red hair flowing gently down her back. She absentmindedly twirled a strand around her finger. There was no mistaking it: Ivy was beautiful. Harley had seen pretty girls before, obviously, but never anyone who was as breathtaking as Ivy. Her hair was as vibrant as the most beautiful rose, and it always looked perfect. Ivy's skin was flawless, and seemed to glow, as though she was always lit with perfect movie-star lighting. Her eyes were the most vivid green, to match her name, and she somehow managed to make the orange patient uniform look fitted and flattering. Harley hadn't seen any more flowers, not since the ones that had made their way into her room, but she knew there was something special about Ivy's connection with plants, she just didn't know what. But Ivy spent all day in the garden, despite the weather, and always came back looking even more beautiful, more refreshed. It was as though being with the plants gave her purpose. Ivy was also intelligent, even though she pretended not to be. Harley may not have known much about the criminal underbelly of Gotham, but she knew enough to see that Ivy was going to become a major player. She wouldn't be in Arkham long.

"Every morning," Harley groaned, putting the black hair onto the table beside her bowl. "Every morning I find hair in my food. I mean, where is it coming from? Are they using their ponytails to stir it or something?"

Ivy's grin widened. "I don't think it's from their heads."

Harley gagged, pushing the bowl away. "That's nasty." She caught sight of an other patient, a woman with closely cropped brown hair and snake-like eyes, watching her, a strange expression on her face.

"What's her problem?" Harley asked, nodding at the woman.

Ivy turned. "That's Rachel, she's one of the cooks."

Harley's stomach sank. The last thing she needed was an enemy in here. Ivy followed her gaze, Rachel was still glaring at her. "Making friends are we?"

"I may as well, it's not like there's anything else to do."

"Still not heard from Joker?"

Harley shook her head. She and Ivy had become relatively close during her first week, and they had spoke about Joker several times. Harley hadn't let her into the fact that it was Joker's idea that she come here, but she had spoke a little about their relationship. She had told Ivy about how she used to be a doctor here, about how she ran away to be with the clown. Ivy knew about Joker, there weren't many people in Gotham who didn't, but she seemed to be the only patient who wasn't so terrified of him that she would avoid Harley. In fact, she seemed to have no fear of him at all.

"Why don't you call him?" Ivy asked, nodding at the patient payphones across the room. They were allowed one call per day: all monitored of course.

"I can't."

"Why?"

Harley shrugged. "He hasn't called me, I can't call him."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you're like a pair of teenagers."

"Shut up," Harley muttered.

"Quinn?" Harley looked up, a guard stood over her. Harley still felt uncomfortable with the guards, she couldn't get the memory of being trapped in the shower with James out of her head. This one, however, seemed to be equally as scared of her. His electronic baton was tucked into his belt, but his hand rested near it. Was his hand shaking?

"Yeah?" She asked, fluttering her eyelashes and flashing him a winning smile. If he was uncomfortable, why not make the most of it? "You need me for something sweetie?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably, but when he spoke his voice was more stern, as if he was trying to make up for it. "You've been assigned your doctor, I'm here to take you to your assessment."

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Looks like things are picking up Harls."

"Can't wait," Harley sighed, getting to her feet, and following the guard. At the door, he put the restraints on her wrists. "Ow," Harley said sarcastically, but the guard ignored her, leading her out into the hallway.

* * *

She was taken along the corridors she had walked so often as a doctor, and into the very same therapy room she had carried out all of her sessions with Joker in. The flood of memories rushed over her. The room was the same: dark, gloomy, blank and miserable. It was also empty, and Harley was led to Joker's old seat.

"Your doctor will be here in a minute," the guard muttered, locking her into the chair with a single strap across the waist.

"Not too tight," Harley said, "I'd hate for my new outfit to get creased." She was sick to death of her orange t-shirt and pants in truth, but she smiled innocently, smoothing down the material and fluttering her eyelashes once more. The guard said nothing in response, simply turning and walking away.

"Something I said?" Harley asked playfully, turning to watch him head for the door.

She rolled her eyes, glancing around the room, trying to fight the memories that were hammering against the doors in her head. How many hours had she spent in here with Joker? It made her miss him even more. Why hadn't he got in touch with her? Why did he need her to be here? Did he even care that being in this place was driving her crazy?

 _More crazy. Let's not forget how we ended up where we are in the first place._

Harley shook her head, these were not questions she needed. Not now, when some know-it-all psychiatrist was about to come and try to dissect her mind.

"Hello Harleen."

Harley couldn't believe her eyes. Sarah Cassidy, her oldest friend, sat down in the chair in front of her. Harley said nothing. What could she say? She hadn't expected to see her ever again, especially not like this.

"It's good to see you," Sarah said, her voice clipped and professional.

"What are you doing here?" Harley asked, the confidence she had built up over the past few weeks ebbing away. .

"I've been assigned as your primary psychologist," Sarah answered, not breaking eye contact.

"I thought you were in Australia?"

"I came back. They were short of doctors." Sarah's tone was pointed. Harley knew what she was getting at: _"We're short of doctors ever since the breakout, in which your boyfriend and his friends killed, maimed, or scared loads of them away."_.

Harley raised an eyebrow in response to these unspoken words, but said nothing. She took in her friend's face: once flawless and beautiful, now tired and scarred. She was still pretty enough, but Zsasz's knife had left its mark. She would never be as breathtaking as she once was. She may turn heads now, but it would be for different reasons.

"I'm surprised they let you be my doctor," Harley began.

"They didn't have much choice, I insisted."

"Why?"

"I had to see you for myself."

Harley cocked her head. "Well here I am." Sarah didn't respond, but just looked at her. Her gaze was unrelenting and made Harley feel uncomfortable. After what seemed like at least five minutes of silence, Harley finally spoke again. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"What would _you_ like to talk about?" Sarah echoed.

Harley rolled her eyes, "I know you've got better ways to get into my head than that."

"I'm not trying to get into your head," Sarah began, her tone a little softer, but still professional. "I just want to talk."

Harley sighed dramatically. "Puh-lease, don't talk to me like I've never been in a session in my life." She was being rude, she knew it, but it was the only way she could process what was happening. "You start friendly, and before you know it, I'm pouring out all of my secrets." She paused. "Though, I guess you know those."

"Not all of them." Sarah's face was so sad, it made Harley feel something she didn't want to feel, so instead she plastered a smile across her lips. "So do what you need to do Doc, but I'm not gonna be that easy."

"Ok, then why don't you lead?" Sarah suggested.

"What do you want me to say?" Harley asked, leaning back in her chair and looking at the ceiling, a bored expression on her face.

"Why don't you start by telling me about your new look?" Sarah nodded at Harley. "It's different."

"I just felt like a change," Harley yawned. "Sometimes it's good to mix things up." She pointedly looked at Sarah's hair, the same style it had been for the last few years. Sarah raised an eyebrow, but didn't rise to the bait. Instead she changed the subject.

"Ok, why don't you tell me about why you're here?"

Harley smiled. "I got caught by the Bat."

"What were you doing?" _Pointless question, she almost certainly knows._

"Oh I don't know, I was in a bank, things were getting smashed. I think I might've shot someone?" Harley bit her lip. "I can't really remember."

Sarah made a note on the pad in front of her. "You blacked out?"

"No Doc, I just can't remember the details, I was too busy enjoying myself."

"That's how you enjoy yourself now? With violence and destruction? Is that who you've become?" Sarah's professional manner was slipping a little.

"How do you know it's not who I always was?"

"Because I know you, Harleen." Sarah's hardened expression broke, and she looked as though she might cry.

"No," Harley corrected. "You _knew_ me, or at least you thought you did. But I didn't even know myself, so I don't know how you could either."

"So _this_ is the real you?"

Harley held her handcuffed hands across the table, making to shake with Sarah's. "Pleasure to meet ya!"

Sarah didn't take her hand, and Harley was sure she heard her sigh.

"I think that's enough for today," she said, her voice back to its professional tone. She gestured across the room, and Harley realised for the first time that the guard hadn't left.

"Don't you trust me?" Harley asked sarcastically. Sarah didn't reply, and simply filed her paperwork as the guard pulled Harley to her feet and led her from the room.

* * *

"She sounds like a bitch."

Harley shook her head, the wind whipping a strand of hair in front of her eyes. She had been in the garden with Ivy ever since her session with Sarah, and had told her everything that had happened, as well as the fact that she and Sarah had been friends for years.

"She's not a bitch," Harley muttered. "She just doesn't know me, not any more."

"That's not your fault." Ivy was on her knees, planting some bulbs Harley didn't recognise. "If she's your friend, she should continue to appreciate you for who you are."

Harley shrugged. "I can't expect that, not when my boyfriend and his guys blew half this place up breaking us out. She doesn't know me. She wouldn't like the new me."

"Well _I_ like you," Ivy said, with her winning smile.

"And with fun days out like this, what am I missing?" Harley replied sarcastically, as the rain began once more, and the wind chilled her face. Ivy just grinned, her fingers deep in the soil. She nodded at the fence, "Looks like we have a new guest."

Harley followed her gaze, the Arkham truck was heading up the path towards the main entrance. She got to her feet and moved closer, she liked seeing the new patients arrive: trying to guess where they would be taken, why they might be here.

She was at the chain link fence now, and the rain was getting heavier. She'd go inside in a second, but for some reason she had to see who was coming: it felt like it was important.

She watched as the guards got out of the cab of the truck, and moved around to the back. One opened the doors, while two more climbed inside. A third aimed a gun inside the truck.

 _Someone serious in there,_ Harley thought. Her stomach dropped, what would she do if it was Croc. Would she be safe in here? Or Crane? Would that be worse?

It wasn't Croc. Or Crane.

"Puddin!" Harley's voice was higher and more excited than she expected, but she couldn't believe her eyes! Joker was being led from the truck, his wrists and ankles restrained. He turned at the sound of her voice, flashing her that wicked smile she had come to love so much. She waved enthusiastically, blowing a kiss and pressing her whole body up against the cold metal.

Joker was taken into the Asylum and out of sight. Harley's heart was still hammering, and she no longer cared about the cold rain pouring down her back. She watched the front doors to the asylum, as if Joker was going to appear again. Her fingers entwined in the metal strands of the fence.

"Looks like things are looking up after all," Ivy said, coming to stand beside Harley.

Harley grinned, she didn't know why Joker was here, but one thing was for certain: things were about to get exciting!


	28. Chapter 28

**Writers block gone! I sat down today and the ideas just kept coming. I've mapped out the whole of this story up until the end, so I'm feeling really positive! Still got a little way to go, but I know where it's heading and how it's going to end!**

 **Big thanks to all the reviews, follows, and favourites, and for anyone who takes the time to read this story. I'm so grateful for your support, you guys are amazing.**

* * *

Harley returned from the garden feeling lighter than she had since arriving at Arkham. She had a spring in her step, and was practically giddy.

 _He's here he's here he's here._

Those words just kept repeating around her head: swirling round in a myriad of colours and fonts. Ivy smiled, "You look far too happy to be in an insane asylum."

Harley grinned. "I knew he wouldn't leave me here."

"Uhuh," Ivy replied unconvincingly. She and Harley both knew that Harley had been going crazy telling herself Joker was never coming for her. But Ivy was a good enough friend not to bring that up.

"Well you'll have plenty of time to think about what the hell he's planning after lights out," Ivy continued, pushing Harley forwards. Harley hadn't even realised she had come to a standstill. "We've got to shower." She motioned towards the large shower rooms, and Harley nodded. They had to shower twice a day at the asylum, there was some big investigation a couple of years ago when it was discovered over half the patients had lice, and now the hygiene rules were strictly enforced.

Harley hurried to her room/cell and grabbed her towel, then followed the line of women heading down the hall to the showers. Her usual spot next to Ivy was taken in the rush: there were only a few showers that had both consistently hot water and good pressure, so you had to be tough. Today, Harley wasn't fast enough, so had to settle for the cold, low pressure shower in the corner of the room.

Though they were monitored by CCTV, the women had a modicum of privacy in the showers: the guards didn't follow them in, instead choosing to wait outside. It was nice not to feel like you were being watched, however every time the camera whirred and turned, Harley remembered that she still was.

"Hey, blondie."

Harley turned, it was the cook woman: Rachel, and two friends. They stood in front of Harley in their towels, all watching her with unreadable expressions on their faces. Harley wanted to reach for her towel: being naked made her feel incredibly vulnerable, but that might look weak, so she simply stood a little taller, and met Rachel's cold eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Word has it, you don't like my food."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Says who?"

"Says your face this morning when you were eating it." Rachel spat her words, and Harley was grateful she was under the running water.

"You know, it's kind of creepy to watch someone eat," Harley began in a patronisingly soothing voice. She couldn't help it, something about this woman made her want to press her buttons.

It worked, Rachel's face turned an even darker shade. "Answer my question!"

Harley raised an eyebrow, vaguely aware that people were starting to stare. "You didn't ask one."

"Do you like my fucking food?!" She was really yelling now, and almost all eyes in the room were on the group. Harley turned off her shower and reached for her towel, meaning to wrap it around herself, but Rachel slapped it out of her hand and straight onto the wet floor. Her two friends sniggered. Harley showed no expression on her face, but cocked her head to the side.

"Rachel, your food is absolutely lovely. I'm just pubic hair intolerant, so need to pick them out of my food before I eat it. If I have too many, I risk contracting whatever mixed bag of vaginal infections you're toting around with you. I hate to sound unkind, but you look like you're probably rotting from the inside out." She spread a wide grin on her lips, and strode past the three of them, confidently, nakedly, and out of the doors.

* * *

"Harley, can I ask you a question?" Ivy's voice drifted down through the grate on the wall. Harley was back in her room now, lying on the bed twirling a strand of blonde-blue wet hair through her fingers.

"Yeah?"

"When did you become so mind numbingly fucking stupid?"

Harley felt a grin play on her lips. "Was that a poor choice?"

She could hear the exasperation in Ivy's tone. "You haven't been here as long as me: Rachel is dangerous, and pissing her off might be the worst decision you've ever made."

"I'll be fine, I've got you. If she tries to hurt me, you can blind her with flowers or something."

"This isn't a joke."

"I'll be fine," Harley repeated, telling herself just as much as Ivy.

 _There are guards everywhere,_ Harley's internal voice was rationalising. _She can't hurt you in here._

Harley had yet to realise how mistaken she was.

* * *

Harley was woken in the night with a hand over her mouth. She opened her eyes to see exactly the last thing she wanted to: Rachel and her friends. Rachel was grinning, holding a long, sharp kitchen knife. "You make a sound, and I gut you right here, understand?" She asked.

Harley nodded, trying not to look afraid.

"Get up."

Harley got to her feet, and the two other women took her by each arm and led her from the room. For a moment, Harley thought she was saved, there was a guard, heading right for them! But he simply nodded at Rachel. "Have fun," he muttered, and she laughed.

 _Fuck this place. Are any guards not corrupt assholes?!_

Harley was dragged to the kitchen. She had never been in here before: it was a huge room, lined with work surfaces, ovens, and doors which she assumed led to walk-ins. The women led her to a huge table in the middle of the room.

"Get on the table."

"Why?" Harley asked, keeping her voice calm.

"Get on the fucking table!"

Harley's voice was smooth. "You don't have to yell, you know. Sometimes all you need is a smile and a kind word."

One of Rachel's cronies stifled a grin, but the other one, along with Rachel herself, looked furious. She moved closer. "You get on that fucking table right now, or I use this knife to cut you a brand new smile."

Harley widened her eyes and held up her hands. "Ok lady, whatever you say. I just think a 'please' every now and then wouldn't kill you."

 _What are they going to do to me? What the hell am I gonna do? I need Joker. I need Ivy. I need anyone!_

"Hey!" Harley protested, as the two other women tied her arms down, attaching the pieces of cord to the legs of the table.

" _Please,_ lie still," Rachel grinned. "Wouldn't want you to move and ruin it."

"Ruin what?"

Rachel was still grinning, and she nodded at one of the other women, who disappeared from view. "Well, I was thinking about the best thing to do after our little, _confrontation_ earlier. Emily here-" she nodded at the remaining woman, "-wanted me to cut your pretty lips right off and send them to your clown." She ran the knife along Harley's lips, but didn't cut. "But Nicole, she said she wanted me to leave a…clearer, message. And I liked that." The one called Nicole reappeared, carrying what looked like a portable CD player, and some other things. It didn't take Harley long to realise this was a homemade tattoo gun. The CD player's motor powered the needle, which was inside the ballpoint pen Rachel was now holding.

Harley smiled, cocking her head to one side. "I always wanted a little rabbit on my left butt cheek, you think you could do that?"

"Shut up!" Emily hissed, slapping Harley curtly across the face, but Rachel just smiled.

"No, but I am going to do you a favour. I'm going to cover up that nasty scar on your face." She used the kitchen knife to point to the cut where Zsasz had cut her. She leaned in. "I'm going to use one of the words you used to describe me earlier, so everyone knows exactly what you are, inside and out." She took a marker pen from Nicole, and leaned in, writing something across the scar. It hurt already.

"Apparently, tattooing over a fresh scar – and this looks pretty fresh – hurts more than anything else." Rachel's breath was warm on her face as she whispered. "But try not to move, I'd hate to mess this up."

"I'll try," Harley replied, her heart hammering. "But do you need me to spell anything for you? It'd just be so embarrassing if my tattoo was ruined just because your community college didn't do it's job properly."

Rachel's grin flickered, and Emily slapped her again. "Tape her mouth shut!" Emily suggested, but Rachel shook her head.

"No. I want to hear her cry."

As soon as the needle hit her skin, Harley was in agony. It was worse than Zsasz' knife, worse than the acid, worse than anything. She had never felt pain like it, white hot and searing, and she just wanted to take the knife (now in Emily's hand) and cut her own throat so she could escape the torture.

But she kept quiet. She would not give Rachel the satisfaction of screaming. She kept it all inside her head.

"Doesn't it hurt her?" Emily asked after a few minutes, staring at Harley's stony expression.

"She's too crazy to feel it," Nicole suggested.

"No, she feels it," Rachel looked up, nodding at Harley. "Look at her eyes. She's in agony." She grinned, getting back to work.

* * *

Finally, it was done. Rachel stepped back to admire her work, and the other two did too.

"That looks really good," Emily smiled.

"Amazing," Nicole agreed.

"Do I get to see?" Harley asked, forcing her voice to be light when all she wanted to do was let out every scream she had kept inside for however long this had taken.

"Of course," Rachel smiled, using the reflective surface of the knife and holding it above Harley's face. The words were backwards, but Harley could still read them.

 _Rotten._

That would be on her face forever. She would never be normal now, never be able to hide who she was. She was, and forever would be, rotten.

But Harley plastered a huge smile on her face. "Oh wow, it's perfect! How much do I owe you?"

Finally Rachel's grin disappeared. Emily, however, looked even angrier. "She's fucking with us! Let me cut her fucking face off. Send that to her boyfriend!" She snatched the knife from Rachel's hand.

"Good idea," Nicole replied sarcastically. "Because if he wasn't gonna kill us before, let's make doubly sure he does it in the most painful way possible."

"I'm not scared of the Joker," Emily sniffed.

"Then you're even crazier than they say you are."

Emily slammed the knife down on the table. "Don't call me crazy, bitch."

"We're all crazy in here!"

"I said, don't call me crazy!" She moved round, shoving Nicole. Rachel sighed, turning to separate them. Harley had seconds, but her fingers were already wrapped around the knife. She turned it, holding it as closely as she could, and began to cut through the bond at her wrist.

"I'm not crazy!"

"You burned down your house in the middle of your own birthday party!"

"I had my fucking reasons!"

"Ah yes, the aliens, right?"

"Don't you talk about things you don't understand!"

"Will you two just shut up?!"

 _Yes!_ Harley's hand was free. Keeping her eyes on the other women, she reached round and used the knife to quickly cut through the next bond. Then she lay back down, holding the knife in her right hand and out of sight. She waited.

"Enough!" Yelled Rachel. "Both of you are crazy and we haven't got time to decide who is worse! We need to get our little princess here back to her cell before the guards change." She glanced at Harley. "But, maybe one more tattoo? I'm thinking something less subtle this time." She grinned. "How about we colour in her eyelids?"

The other two grinned, watching as Rachel made her way over. She leaned over Harley, whispering in her ear.

"Let's see you keep quiet for this one, bitch."

Harley smiled. "I'll try." It was quick: with one sweep of her arm she slashed the knife across Rachel's throat. Rachel's eyes widened, but she made no sound as blood poured from the wound and onto Harley's chest.

The other women screamed, running over. But it was too late, Rachel was done for. Harley pushed her back, and she fell to the floor.

Nicole ran to her friend, trying to stop the bleeding, but Emily charged Harley. Harley was too fast, kicking her sharply in the stomach, and then using her elbow to break Emily's nose. She stumbled back, and Harley plunged the knife into her chest. Only Nicole left. The woman stood up. Harley wondered if she thought she had been discreet in grabbing the second knife from the counter. Did she think Harley hadn't seen her hide it behind her back?

"Don't kill me." Nicole pleaded, one hand still clutching the knife out of sight. "You could just let me go."

"I could," Harley agreed. "And maybe I would. But I'm just curious, what are you planning to do with that knife?"

Nicole pulled the knife from behind her back, a smile spreading across her face. "Whoops," she said, running at Harley, knife in the air. Harley, always the performer, cartwheeled out of her way, stopping next to the counter and grabbing another knife of her own. Nicole stood at the other side of the room, just watching. "Well, now we each have one. Now what?" She asked.

"How's your aim?"

"What?"

Harley answered that question by throwing the knife at Nicole. She hit her square in the middle of her stomach. Nicole dropped her own knife in shock, hurriedly trying to pull Harley's out.

"I wouldn't-" Harley began, but it was too late. When Nicole removed the knife, she opened the wound even more, and blood gushed out so quickly that she could no longer stand. She crumbled, joining her dead friends on the floor.

Harley sighed, looking around the room. Blood, bodies, ink.

"Well this was fun," Harley said to the corpses. "I'd love to stay, but I have another function to attend." She grabbed a cookie from the nearby jar, stepped over Rachel, and made her way back towards her room.

It was just as she was wondering how she would get the blood out of her nightclothes when she ran into the same guard she had passed in the hall with the three other women earlier. His eyes widened when he saw her, covered in blood, eating a cookie in front of him.

"Uh…" Harley began. "There's been a small accident."

* * *

Harley was shackled at the wrists and ankles, which made walking slightly tricky. There was a guard on either side of her, and another up ahead. All of them held guns. They were just about to head through the third checkpoint. She turned, locking eyes with a familiar face.

"Hi Frankie," she grinned, and using her shackled hand to tuck a strand of blood stained hair behind her ear. "Good to see you again."

Frank Bowles took in the sight of her with wide eyes. "Fuck," he breathed. He looked at the nearest guard. "What she do?"

"Killed three other patients in the kitchen, went on a rampage."

"Pfft," Harley exhaled. " _Three_ isn't a rampage. A rampage is, like, thirteen, and I'm nowhere near that. Yet." She smiled innocently. Frank raised an eyebrow.

"You're a little different since the last time I saw you."

Harley grinned. "I lost three pounds, thanks for noticing!"

"Uhuh." Frank sighed, buzzing them through the doors.

"Be careful with her," he called to her guards as they led her on. "If she's as crazy as her boyfriend, we're gonna need more men down here."

* * *

Harley walked down the dark corridor of maximum security. The glass cells on either side of her seemed to come to life as she passed, men moving to the glass, shouting, knocking, whistling.

"Not a lot of women down here, huh?" Harley asked, but none of the guards replied. She didn't care, because there he was, her Joker, standing by the glass to her left.

"Puddin!" She cried, stepping towards him. The guard pushed her back, but she didn't care, pushing him away once more, and heading to the glass. She put her hands against it.

"Hey baby." His voice was just as beautiful as she remembered. He took in her blood stained clothes. She was vaguely aware of the guards pointing their guns at her, ordering her to move away from the glass, but it was just white noise.

"Been having fun?" He asked.

"You know it."

He smiled, then seemed to notice the tattoo. His eyes burned, but Harley spoke in soothing tones. "Don't worry Mr J, I can handle myself." She motioned to her clothing.

He smiled. "That you can."

Harley was roughly pulled away by her guards, and they dragged her on to a door at the end of the corridor. Joker watched her every step of the way. "I'll see you real soon sweetheart," he called, his laughter following her down the hall. Now she was laughing too.

The door opened and Harley was thrown inside the small, padded room. There was no light, just a small hatch in the door, which was immediately closed, plunging the room into darkness. The only light came from a tiny gap under the door.

 _Solitary,_ Harley thought. How long would she be in there?

It didn't matter, not really. She would be kept down in max now, with Joker. Now the real fun would begin.


	29. Chapter 29

**As usual, thanks to all of you for your support and lovely comments. For those of you interested, the 'Doctor Young' mentioned in this chapter is from the 'Arkham Asylum' video game, which I am borrowing some content from for the next few chapters!**

 **Hope you like it :)**

* * *

Harley didn't know how long she had been in isolation for. She'd received six disgusting trays of slop through the small hatch in her door, but what did that mean? If they were feeding her twice a day, she'd been there for three days. If it was once a day, she'd been in for six. She had no idea how much time there had been between meals though, because she spent the whole time sitting in darkness. All she knew was that today was different. The door was opened and light poured in, so bright she was blinded, and held up her arms to shield her eyes.

Two guards, maybe three, pulled her to her feet and dragged her down the hall. Harley still couldn't see anything, but as she walked she heard a silky voice to her right:

"Looking beautiful, baby."

She grinned.

Harley was taken to the showers, where she was stripped and hosed down in freezing cold water. Her eyes slowly began to adjust to the light, and she found that she was being scrubbed by two female guards, while a male watched, with his gun pointed at her.

"Room for one more?" She asked playfully. He ignored her.

* * *

After the dried blood had been scrubbed, and her skin was practically red raw, Harley redressed in a new orange jumpsuit, was re-cuffed, and led back to the cell block. Harley continued down the long corridor, grinning at Joker to her left as they passed his cell. She practically squealed with delight when shoved into her own cell: which was almost directly opposite Joker's. Standing in her cell, Joker's was on the opposite wall and one down to the left. She could see him clearly, right now, and he was smiling at her.

Harley stood still while the guards removed her cuffs and backed away. The heavy iron door slammed home, and she was left to settle in.

That didn't take long. Like all cells in max, she had a bed, a table and chair, and a toilet. No window, no books, no pictures, no soul. She didn't have much time to think about it though, because someone was speaking to her from outside the cell. Harley looked up, it was Frank Bowles.

"Hey Frankie," Harley beamed. "How'd you like my new place?"

Bowles' expression didn't crack. "You got therapy. Turn around."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's the kind of treatment I need."

Again, Bowles' face was stone. "I need to cuff you. Turn around."

Harley saluted. "Yes sir."

She turned around, and heard the door open behind her. Bowles took her hands roughly and she felt the cuffs go on. She turned around, and Bowles led her out. As they headed down the hallway, she saw that Joker's eyes never left her.

"Look after my girl, Frankie," Joker drawled. "I'll know if you don't."

Did Frank's pace slow then? Harley wasn't sure, but he continued to push her on down the hall, if a little more gently.

* * *

"Hello Harleen."

" _Doctor_ Cassidy."

Sarah looked at the notes in front of her, motioning to them with her hand. "I see you've had a dramatic few days."

Harley looked up at the ceiling. "Uh, I don't know. Remind me?"

Sarah narrowed her gaze. "You killed three women."

"Oh right, that. Yeah. I wasn't happy with their work."

"Their work?" Sarah's eyes flicked to the tattoo. "Did they do that to you?"

Harley was confused: did Sarah not know what happened? Surely it was written on the notes? Or did the staff at Arkham actually think Harley had tattooed her own face? Sarah seemed to take Harley's silence as her answer.

"I see." She paused for a moment. "Are you ok?"

"Is that a professional question?"

"What do you mean, Harleen?"

"Are you asking as my Doctor, or my friend?"

Sarah played along. "Would it be so bad if it was both?"

Harley's tone was sarcastic. "It's pretty hard to maintain the level of equality required for a friendship, when I'm handcuffed and there's a guard watching my every move."

"Not today," Sarah muttered. Harley turned, true enough, the guard had left the room. It was just the two of them.

"Harleen…I'm trying so hard to be professional, to put a psychological label on whatever has happened to you. But it's practically impossible, because when I look at you, I feel guilt. Guilt for leaving you, for letting you become..." Her voice trailed off, and Harley knew Sarah well enough to know she was angry at herself for saying too much. Harley decided to put her out of her misery. "I'm fine, Doctor Cassidy. I just wish they'd had time to do all my gang symbols." She grinned, then added, more gently, "Don't feel guilt over me. I live my life how I choose to live it, I'm not your responsibility."

Sarah sighed. "I don't remember you being this…" She seemed to be lost for words.

"You don't remember me being like this because I wasn't like this," Harley finished. "But it's how I am now."

Sarah didn't say anything for a few minutes, but finally spoke again. "Ok, so is there anything you would like to talk about today?"

"How about we talk about you?"

Sarah shook her head. "You know that's not how it goes. Let's talk about what happened with those women."

"I'm not in the mood."

Sarah ignored her. "The report said you left your cell with them, and then went on some kind of rampage-"

Harley rolled her eyes. "What's with everyone using that word? Three people is not a rampage!"

"What would you call it?"

"Fun."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Fun? It was fun to kill those women?"

"It was fun to get revenge."

Sarah cocked her head to the side. "What really happened in there? Did they force you to go with them? Did they do that-" she pointed to Harley's tattoo "-against your will? If you tell me, maybe I could understand."

There was part of Harley, a big part, who wanted to tell Sarah everything. To confide in her friend like she had done so many times over the years. But she didn't. Everything had changed now, and confiding in Sarah felt too much like stepping back into her old life. She wouldn't let that happen. So Harley did what came naturally: plastered a wide grin on her face, and lied.

"Listen, doc, as much as I'd love to sit here and have some girl talk, I've got things to do, so can we hurry this along?

Sarah sighed, breaking eye contact and returning to her notes, and though Harley couldn't fight the feeling of discomfort in her chest, her smile didn't waver.

* * *

Harley had been back in her cell for a while. Hours? Maybe. Time didn't really mean much down here. She was laying on her bed, counting the number of damp patches spattered across her ceiling. There were 14. She'd counted them several times.

A sound behind her. Harley looked up. Bowles was there, unlocking her cell.

"What's up, Frankie?" She asked, vaguely aware he hadn't announced his presence or told her to turn around so he could cuff her. The heavy door swung open, and he stood in the corridor, his pistol pointed at her.

"Get up," he muttered. Harley wanted to make a joke, but there was something about the way Bowles was standing: he looked worried and uncomfortable. She did as she was told, and walked out to join him. He nodded for her to walk on, but she only got a few steps forward when he told her to stop. She was beside Joker's cell now.

"Wha-" she began.

"Shut up," Bowles hissed. She could hear him unlocking Joker's cell door, before she was roughly pushed inside, the door slamming behind her.

"Ten minutes," Bowles growled. "I can't help you no more if I get fired for this."

Joker was lying on his bed, and when he spoke, his tone was almost bored. "I'll let you know when she's ready to go back."

Frank muttered something under his breath, and Harley heard him stomp away. She waited for the sound of his boots to disappear completely before allowing herself to breathe. Her eyes were on Joker, who now got out of bed and walked slowly towards her.

Harley came to life, throwing her arms around his neck, squeezing him so tightly it was probably uncomfortable, though he said nothing. Harley inhaled his familiar, intoxicating scent. _How did he get cologne in here?_

"Hey baby," Joker breathed.

Harley pulled back, kissing him. Gently at first, then as if she was sure she would never get the chance again. Joker's hands were on her arms now, holding her in place, but all too soon he broke their kiss. He nodded to the corner of his cell, and Harley followed his gaze. There was a camera up there, watching the two of them. She knew all too well, she had one of them in her own cell.

"Does it work?" She asked, knowing from past experience how spotty the surveillance in this place was.

Joker nodded. "They've been upgraded since we were last here."

Harley felt nervous. "What's gonna happen when they see I'm in here?"

Joker smiled, "Nothing, there's going to be a slight 'glitch' in the footage from our cells, thanks to Frank. But we don't want to get carried away," he eyed her hand, which was resting on his strong chest. "Not with him watching. Unless that's your thing?"

Harley smiled, "Not yet, but we'll see."

Joker stepped back, looking her up and down. "Let me look at you." He put his hand on the side of her face, turning her head to get a better look at the tattoo.

"I assume the women who did this are no longer with us?" He muttered.

Harley grinned. Joker mirrored it. "Good."

Harley looked at her beautiful man, same grey eyes, same porcelain skin, yet he still managed to look brand new and just as fascinating every time she saw him. She put her hands on his chest and playfully, yet firmly, pushed him. Joker's eyes widened in surprise.

"Now you tell me right now why I'm here." Harley said sternly.

Joker nodded. Harley took him by the hand and led him to the bed, where they sat together.

"There's a doctor here, Doctor Young." Joker began.

Harley thought for a moment. "The name is familiar, what does she do?"

"She's the head of the research department, that's why you don't know her, but she's the key to this whole thing-"

Harley raised an eyebrow, interrupting him. "Is she prettier than me?"

Joker grinned, "No baby, no one is."

Harley exhaled dramatically, "Good. Continue."

"She's been working on a formula, which was created to strengthen weak patients. The idea was that if they were stronger, they would be able to undergo more 'intense treatments'." Joker rolled his eyes, and she knew he was referring to the electroshock therapy.

"So you want the formula to use on your boys, to make them stronger, right?"

Joker smiled, "That's what I love about you, you just _get_ me."

Harley winked. Then she thought for a moment. "So, why did you need me in here?"

"Well, it seems the good doctor doesn't want to play with us any more. I've been sending her payments to fund her research, under a different name. She seems to have discovered it was me, and has sent back the payments. I wanted to put you here to have a quiet word with her, girl to girl. Let her know that helping me is in her best interests."

"Why aren't you going to speak to her?"

"Doctor Young is known to have a nervous disposition. Sometimes, when people see me, they get a little…dead. We don't want that."

Harley grinned, she could see why this Doctor might get a little nervous to find Joker in her office. Hell, she was still half afraid of him herself, and she was in love with him!

"How am I going to get to her?" She asked.

"I have an idea." He didn't say any more, and Harley knew he wasn't going to give her any information just yet.

"Ok," Harley continued. "So if you want _me_ to speak to her, why are _you_ here?"

Joker shrugged. "I missed you." His smile was almost shy, it made Harley want to squeeze his face. So she did, planting her lips firmly on his as she did so. She glanced at the tattoo on his forehead as she finally moved away: _damaged._

"At least we match now," she said, running a finger across his tattoo.

"Looks like we do."

"How did you get yours?"

Joker cocked his head to the side. "Lots of questions today, has Doctor Quinzel made a come back?"

"Perhaps."

Joker grinned. "Good, I liked her."

"Oh really? Was that before or after you took her mind apart and played with it like spaghetti?"

Joker's smile widened. "Mostly during."

"Ok, let's play then. It'll be just like the old days." Harley tucked her legs up, sitting cross legged opposite him on the bed. "Good evening, Mr Joker."

"Doctor Quinzel." Once more he elongated her name, making her old title sound delicious.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about this evening?"

"What would you like to talk about, Doctor?"

"Why don't we start with your tattoo?"

"Which one?"

"The one on your forehead. What made you choose that particular word?"

"Why do you think I chose it?"

Harley pondered for a moment. "You think that word describes you?"

"Correct."

"Why?"

"You've read my file, Doctor. Why do you think?"

Harley shook her head. "I don't know, you're perfect."

Joker smiled, "Now that's not very professional, Doctor."

"Neither is this." Harley leaned forwards, planting a gentle kiss on Joker's soft lips. She placed her hands on either side of his head, whispering to him now. "Tell me. I want to know the truth."

Joker's cold, metallic eyes never left hers. When he spoke his voice was no more than a whisper. "It was after I killed my first man, and enjoyed it." He was telling the truth, he always told her the truth, right from the start.

"Thank you," she whispered back, kissing him once more.

When she pulled away, Joker placed a single finger to her lips, stroking it gently. "You should go back to your cell, the guards will be doing their patrol soon."

Harley didn't ask how he could know, what with there being no clocks or windows, Joker just knew things sometimes. She nodded, getting up and moving to the door. Joker nodded at the camera, and within a few minutes Frank Bowles had arrived, and opened the door to the cell. Harley turned around, kissing Joker once more, lingering.

"Come on," hissed Frank. Joker waved him away, kissing Harley with more passion. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her against him. She felt the familiar tightening. She needed him. But not here, not with Frank Bowles just a few feet away. Eventually, when Harley was breathless, Joker released her. She turned, and allowed Frank to lead her back to her cell.

* * *

As Frank locked her cell door, Harley could hear sounds from the other end of the hallway. The sound of commotion, loud voices, men shouting, and movement. Harley moved towards the glass. It looked like they had a new prisoner in max, but she couldn't see who it was yet. They were getting closer though. She could see several guards now, and the patient would be in sight in just a few seconds.

"Oh shit!" Harley grinned. "What are you doing here?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Hi everyone, I really hope you like the new chapter. Sorry it's been so long coming: I've just started teaching full time again, which takes up so much of my time! Thanks to everyone who has read, favourited, followed, or left reviews on the story so far. It's honestly so wonderful to hear that people enjoy the story, because I enjoy writing it so much. You're all fantastic!**

* * *

"Hey Harls." Ivy looked just as beautiful as ever but...was her skin green?

"Ivy? What happened to you?" Harley sounded more shocked than she had intended to, pressing her hands against the glass of her cell. Ivy, however, just smiled as she was marched past.

"I've finally accepted what I am and what I can do, and I feel fantastic." Her voice was light, full of laughter, and she had an actual spring in her step, despite being led by three guards.

Harley grinned, "I know what you mean. Good to see you again."

She was delighted to see that the guards were unlocking the cell opposite her own. Ivy was pushed inside and un-cuffed. The guards backed out.

"What did you do to get yourself down here?" Harley called over.

"Hey, no talking to other patients," one of the guards said, tapping on Harley's cell with his baton. Ivy continued as if he hadn't said anything, "Just a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

The guard scowled, "I said shut up!"

Ivy shrugged as the other two locked up her cell. Frank Bowles was one of them. She continued, "I had a disagreement with one of the guards, the one who found you in the kitchen."

"I'd hardly call it a disagreement." Joker's voice drifted over, and Harley could just make him out: lying on his bed in the darkness. Joker continued, "I hear she used one of her plants to rip him into three pieces."

"Hey! All of you, shut up!" The guard nearest Harley's cell looked seriously annoyed now, but Bowles just clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about them, let them have their little chats."

"They're not meant to talk."

"Who cares?" Bowles yawned, heading off. The other two followed, though the angry one threw Harley one final scowl before leaving. Harley looked back at Ivy. "So you killed the guard who turned me in?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Ivy tossed her hair. "Because he deserved it." She looked momentarily puzzled, and raised an eyebrow. "Joker?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you know I killed him?"

Harley couldn't see him clearly, but she knew him well enough to know he would be smiling. She answered for him. "He just knows things, it's easier not to worry about it, it'll drive you crazy."

* * *

"Good morning Harleen."

"Doctor Cassidy." Harley felt uneasy. Unlike her usual sessions with Sarah, the two of them were no longer alone. Harley looked at the other doctor, the man sitting beside Sarah. He looked to be about forty, with slightly greying hair and stylish glasses. He had a goatee beard. She had always hated those. The doctor answered her unasked question.

"My name is Doctor Riley. I've asked Doctor Cassidy if I can sit in on your session. I hope that's alright?"

Harley rolled her eyes, it was hardly like she had much of a choice. It also seemed like Doctor Riley didn't just want to watch, he wanted to lead, because he immediately kicked things off. He leaned on the table. "How are you today, Harleen?"

"Pretty good, Doc, yourself?"

"I'm well, thank you."

"Awesome."

A few moments silence. Doctor Riley just watched her. Harley didn't break eye contact. No one was saying anything, and it was all Harley could do to keep her tone even when she eventually broke the silence. "Well," she began flatly. "This is fun."

"Are you bored Harleen?"

"I don't want to hurt your feelings Doc, but you're not the best I've ever had." She grinned. "Therapist I mean."

Doctor Riley smiled. "You'd prefer we talked?"

"I'd prefer to be back in my cell, but anything's better than this. I have less awkward silences during a Pap smear."

Sarah's lips twitched, but she remained composed, looking down at her notes. Harley smiled again, it made her feel good to break through the walls Sarah had built up. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't like they could be friends again, but still, it was comforting. She turned her attention back to Doctor Riley. His smile didn't break at her comment, but he looked down at his notes. "Ok Harleen, well why don't we try something new?" He removed some pieces of paper, each of them with a different ink splatter on it. Harley rolled her eyes again.

 _Who even uses this test any more? It's ancient!_ But she said nothing.

"Look at the first one, Harleen," Riley said, "And tell us what you see."

"A puppy."

Doctor Riley paused. "You didn't look at the paper."

Harley's eyes flicked down, just for a second, barely enough to register the shape. "A black puppy."

Riley frowned, but smoothed his face quickly. "Ok, how about the next one?"

"A bigger puppy."

"Harleen, you're not looking at the paper."

Eye flick, "A much bigger puppy."

The doctor sighed, pushing another piece her way. "And this?"

"A cat. No wait…" Harley still hadn't looked at the paper. "My mistake. It's another puppy."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think it is that you refuse to follow a simple instruction?"

Harley sighed, leaning back. This one was no fun to play with. "I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

"I wonder if it was because of the abuse in your childhood."

Harley felt the floor drop out from underneath her. _How does he know? No one knows. No one but Joker! Would he-_

Then she caught sight of Sarah, the horrified, guilty, expression on her face, and a memory long forgotten came flooding back. A night in with Sarah, just after Harley's mother had died. Three bottles of wine and a brand new flood of emotion at finding another of her mother's belongings had caused Harley to share her most terrible secret. She had sworn Sarah to secrecy, told her that if she cared at all for Harley, that she would never breathe a word of it again. Sarah had kept her word, she had remained silent, so much so that Harley had forgotten even telling her. Sarah had been loyal.

Until now. The woman who used to be her best friend would not meet Harley's eye, pretending to look at something in her notes. Harley wondered if the other two could feel the change in the air. Harley was seething, almost shaking with anger. Her eyes never left Sarah's bowed head. But Doctor Riley continued.

"Tell me, Harleen. Do you still blame yourself for what happened all those years ago with your uncle Pete?"

Harley's eyes blazed into Sarah, who was still not looking at her.

 _She told him everything!_ Hearing that name again, the name she had buried in the furthest corner of her mind, brought back all the memories she had buried with it. The fear, the pain, the guilt. Memories of crying in corners, of hiding her underwear so her mother would never find out, of scrubbing herself with scouring pads in an attempt to feel clean. Harley had never felt so much anger in her life. She was ready to climb across the table and smash Sarah's head down on the hard surface. How dare she! She had told Harley's deepest, most shameful secret to this man. And for what? To get some kind of hold over her? Well it wouldn't work. Sarah chanced a glance up, and immediately looked away.

Doctor Riley cleared his throat. "Why don't we try another?" He asked, seeming to finally sense the shift in the air. Harley didn't even look at the paper. "A rat." She replied through gritted teeth.

"And this?" Another slip of paper.

"A snake."

"This?"

"A traitor."

"And this final one?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Riley sounded confused, but Harley's eyes were still on Sarah's bowed head.

"Nothing. What I see is nothing. Nothing worth my time. Nothing that will ever mean anything to me. Nothing with any soul or empathy. Nothing that will ever find love or meaning in it's pathetic waste of a life. Nothing."

* * *

Harley was led back into max by Bowles. Her mind was still spinning, she couldn't think straight. She was angry, that was for sure, angry enough to punch a hole in the wall. She couldn't do that: her hands were cuffed. But she had been unknowingly a scratching at her wrist with her right hand for the entire journey back, and had yet to realise that she had broken the skin with the incessant dragging of fingernail across skin. Droplets of blood were now trickling down her wrist.

But she wasn't just angry. There was a part of her, a big part, that felt utterly heartbroken. Of course, she should have expected it. Could she have really thought Sarah would remain loyal to her after all that had happened?

 _Yes._

 _That's not fair._

 _I'd have kept her secrets until the day I die, but she can't keep one of mine?_

 _I can't blame her, she think's she's helping me._

Harley felt a tear on her cheek, and wiped it off angrily.

"Harley." She looked up at the sound of Joker's voice. He was watching her through the glass as they passed his cell. Harley stopped.

"Open the door," Joker said to Bowles.

Bowles glanced around, they were alone. Still, he spoke in a hiss. "I can't, it's too risky this early in the day."

"Open the door," Joker growled. Frank didn't move for a moment, then checked the corridor once more, before hastily unlocking Joker's cell and pushing her inside.

"Ten minutes," he muttered, hurrying away.

Harley threw her arms around Joker's neck, feeling his much stronger ones settle around her. She placed her head against his chest, the familiar beating of his heart like a soothing song in her ear. Eventually he pulled away, looking at her hands. She followed his gaze, noticing for the first time the blood on her left wrist. Joker stepped further into the cell, returning with a washcloth, which he dampened with cool water and held against her wrist. It was so tender and comforting that it just about broke Harley's fragile composure. He didn't need to ask what happened, he never had to ask her anything out loud: he just had a way of looking at her that made her tell him everything.

"I just had my session," she began, trying to keep her voice even. She didn't want him to see her cry, to be weak. "Sarah brought another doctor in. She told him… She told him about…" It was no good, she couldn't finish. But she didn't need to, Joker's face contorted in anger, pulling her firmly back against him. His embrace, however, was still gentle. He whispered into her ear, his breath warm. "You want me to kill her?"

Harley genuinely considered it for a moment, before shaking her head. "No."

Joker nodded, still holding her close. Harley sniffed, wiping her eyes again. She pulled away. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Crying?"

"Weak."

Joker smiled. "I'd never think you were weak. I could think of lots of words to describe you, but weak isn't one of them."

Harley took the bait. "What words would you use?"

"Dangerous, beautiful, restless, fascinating…maybe a little crazy."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure you should be throwing stones from your particular glass house."

Joker grinned, "That's why we're perfect for each other, baby."

* * *

 _This is crazy._

 _Yeah, but so am I. Better not to think it._

Harley was being led to the showers by Bowles, but it was just a ruse. This was the time when she was supposed to be delivering her message to Doctor Young, and Frank, of course, was in on the plan. She knew that at some point he was going to find himself 'called away', and when that time came she had ten minutes to get to the doctor's office, send Joker's message, and get back before Bowles returned.

Bowles was nervous, she could tell by the way he held himself as he walked.

"Don't worry Frankie," Harley muttered with a grin.

"Shut up," he hissed as they passed a couple of guards, who nodded at Frank curtly, both looking curiously at Harley as they passed. Harley didn't recognise them, there seemed to be many more guards since she worked here.

"You shouldn't talk to me," Frank continued when the guards had passed. "Don't do nothing to draw attention to yourself."

Harley, who couldn't resist opportunities like this, chose that moment to do a cartwheel: her wrist restraints loose enough to allow her to do this perfectly. Bowles groaned, pulling her roughly on down the hall, but he seemed grateful enough that there had been no one there to see.

They reached Doctor Young's office, and Bowles paused, reaching for his walkie talkie. He mimed talking into it, just acting for the security cameras. When he next spoke he didn't look at her, his eyes focused down the hall.

"The camera is gonna glitch in thirty seconds. You have ten minutes before it starts working again.

"Ten minutes isn't long, Frankie."

"Ten minutes is plenty."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Whoever told you that is a liar."

Bowles rolled his eyes, looked up at the camera, and uncuffed Harley's hands. Then he headed back down the hall, not giving her a second glance. Harley looked at the door to her right, the words 'Doctor Young' stamped onto the frosted glass. She took a deep breath. _Now or never._

Harley opened the door and slipped inside. She could see the doctor working at the computer on her desk: engrossed in something. She didn't look up. Harley stepped a little further into the room, realising she had no idea whatsoever what to say. She decided to wing it, that seemed to be working well enough for her these days.

Harley closed the door firmly. "Evening, doc." Her tone was bright, cheerful even, but the expression on Doctor Young's face when she looked up was one of fear and distrust.

"You're..." she paused, as if trying to decide whether to say it. "You're Harley Quinn."

"Yeah," Harley nodded, half walking, half skipping into the room. "Mr J said you were clever, but I wasn't expecting that! I guess all these fancy degrees"-she nodded at the framed qualifications on the wall-"really paid off!" She grinned widely. "I'm just messin' with you Doc. Though speaking of Joker…"

"I sent it back," Doctor Young hissed, getting to her feet.

Harley raised an eyebrow, and the doctor continued, coming round to the front of her desk. "The money! I sent back his money, all of it! We're even now!" She was pretty enough, a little skinny maybe, but definitely attractive. She looked tired though, a little frantic almost.

Harley tutted, holding up a hand. "Doc, doc. I wish I could say you were right. But unfortunately-"

"I can't give him my formula! I just can't!"

Harley's expression hardened, and she moved closer to Doctor Young, who immediately stepped back, hitting her legs against her desk. Harley's voice was no longer light, she spoke seriously, giving the warning she had been sent to deliver. In her own way, of course.

"Doc, we're both friends here, so let me give you a little advice: girl to girl. If you don't do what Joker wants, he will kill you. It doesn't matter that you've sent the money back, Mr J always gets what he wants." Harley grinned. "I'm proof of that, right?" She winked, then continued. "Nothing else in your life means anything until Joker gets what you promised him." Harley reached out, putting her hand on the doctor's cheek. She recoiled a little, but was trapped by the desk. "Shhh," Harley soothed. "Trust me, it's better for you to just give him what he wants. That way he's happy, you're happy, and I don't have to go to the trouble of setting your apartment on fire while you're asleep." She smiled. "Ok sweetie?" She leaned in and kissed Doctor Young's cheek.

There was a sound behind her, the door had opened. Doctor Young jumped as though she had been electrocuted, and Harley had to admit, her heart was beating a little faster now. Yet she still turned around casually, as though she wasn't going to be in a world of trouble when whoever was at the door saw where she was.

"Oh shit."

Harley's eyes widened at the voice. Aaron Cash stood in the doorway, surveying the two women with a look of utter shock on his face. Harley bit her lip, things just got a little more complicated.

* * *

Cash wasn't exactly in great shape. One of his hands was long gone, replaced by a crude hook. He looked thinner, and seemed to be walking with a limp. He marched Harley out of Doctor Young's office without a word, out into the hallway. Harley's heart was hammering. This was bad. Cash had been her friend before, but times had changed, and now she was a patient. Not just that, she was a patient, out of bounds, threatening a Doctor.

 _I suppose the food in isolation wasn't_ that _bad._

"Bowles!" Cash's voice was angry, and Harley watched as Frank Bowles hurried down the corridor. She knew he must be terrified, he would be in even more trouble than her, but to his credit, his face was calm. "Cash, what are you doing with my patient?" He asked, almost lazily.

"Your patient?!" Cash sounded incredulous. "Your patient was _unguarded_ , and in a Doctor's private office!" Cash hadn't let go of Harley with his good hand, so was waving his hook in Bowles' direction as he spoke.

Bowles shrugged, "I got called away, the Doctor said I could leave the patient with her. Check the cameras if you don't believe me."

Harley was surprised at how calm Frank sounded, though she guessed it wasn't exactly a bluff: Cash could check the cameras all he liked, if Frank had done his job right they wouldn't have been recording anyway. Still, saying the Doctor had agreed to it? Surely that was a risk?

At that moment Doctor Young opened her office door. "Cash, what's going on?" She asked, seemingly composed after her chat with Harley.

"Doctor Young, did you agree that this...this guard could leave his patient with you?"

"Yes."

Harley hadn't been expecting that, but she tried to look neutral, a little bored even. Cash certainly hadn't been expecting it, and he motioned to Harley with his hook. "This is a _dangerous_ criminal from maximium security, and you just agreed to have her be left in your office with you?!"

Doctor Young nodded to Harley. "She was no trouble."

Cash looked astounded. "She's not even wearing wrist restraints!"

Doctor Young shrugged. "I suppose I will have to make sure I am more careful next time, but really, it was no trouble. Now, I have a lot of work to do, would you mind taking your argument somewhere else?" And with that, the doctor stepped back into her office. But not before giving Harley a final glance. A look that said: "Are we even now?" Harley gave a little shake of her head: the Doctor would have to do more than that to pay her debt.

"Bye doc!" She called cheerfully as the door closed. "Now, Frankie, you mind getting me back to my cell? I'm late starting my yoga."

Frank moved to take her by the arm, but Cash shook his head. "I'll take her." Harley could tell there was no arguing with him, so she simply turned to let Frank put her wrist restraints back on, and allowed Cash to lead her back to max.

* * *

They didn't talk on the way. The journey was long and silent. Harley was still coming to terms with seeing another of her friends again. The last time she had seen Cash had been just after he was attacked by Killer Croc. She had helped him: kept him safe and sent people back to get him before she left with Joker. Did he know about that? Did he remember any of the night? Would it count for anything now? Maybe not. Cash had been her friend, true, but she knew him well enough to know he was honest and played by the rules. He may have been fair to the patients, something many of the guards were not, but he had no love for criminals, and that's what Harley was now.

"I know Bowles is lying." Cash finally broke the silence, not looking at her as they walked on through the asylum. Harley didn't reply, but Cash continued. "I know the doctor is too, but I can't work out why, and that scares the hell out of me." He glanced at Harley for a moment, then looked away. "I hoped I wouldn't see you again."

 _Ouch. That hurt._

Harley still couldn't find the words, so she said nothing.

"When I heard what happened, how you left this place...Who you left with. I was mad. Real mad. At first I thought maybe he kidnapped you. Then I saw the security footage and I thought, 'I guess I didn't know her at all'." He paused. "Then I thought, 'maybe I just don't know anything.'" He looked at her again. "I knew if I saw you again it would be in here. I didn't want that for you." He sighed. "He makes you happy?"

Harley nodded, finally allowing herself to speak, though her voice wasn't much more than a whisper. "So happy."

"He keeps you safe?"

"Yes."

Cash nodded. "I don't know why you were in Doctor Young's office, or why she lied to protect you. I know it has something to do with Joker and this whole thing stinks. I should report it to the Warden, get him to investigate, to put Joker into isolation, to suspend Frank..." He looked at Harley again, and she held his gaze.

"You probably should. But you won't."

It was a gamble, she knew that, but something in Cash's face told her she was right.

"No. I won't. You saved my life, and to a certain extent, so did he. I know it was Joker's men who got me to the hospital, and that they did that because of you. I also know you're a good person, nothing can change that." He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. "You have to understand, Harleen, I've got a job here, and my job is to keep people safe. I like you, but I won't let anyone get hurt under my watch, so I have to ask. Are you planning to hurt Doctor Young?"

Harley didn't blink. "No."

Cash nodded, leading them on towards maximum security. "Then I'll keep what happened today a secret." He sighed, nodding to another guard as they entered max. "Don't make me regret it."

Harley nodded, a smile playing on her lips. Today was looking up.

Cash led her towards her cell, and she passed Joker on her left. He glanced at Cash but said nothing, watching her while standing at the glass. He looked a little tense, but Harley could hardly risk Cash's good nature by stopping to ask what was wrong. Cash locked her in her cell, pausing at the glass before leaving.

"It's good to see you again, despite everything."

Harley smiled. "You too. And hey, I think the hook suits you."

Cash smiled a little at that, nodded, and then left.

Harley exhaled loudly. That could've gone a whole lot worse! She felt almost relief to be back in her cell, glad the whole thing was over. She looked across at Ivy, who was drawing a huge mural on her wall: hundreds of flowers of all sizes and colours. Harley had no idea where Ivy had got the chalks from: she had charmed somebody no doubt. Still, at least she was happy. Harley looked over at Joker now, who was still standing at the glass.

"Hey," she called over. "You ok, puddin'?"

"Never better," he growled.

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound like it."

"He's just feeling unsatisfied with his new view." Harley recognised that voice. Though she couldn't see it, she finally understood why Joker was so angry. The cell next to her, the one directly opposite Joker, apparently now contained the last person she expected to run into again.

"Hello Crane," she breathed.


	31. Chapter 31

**As always, thanks for the kind words for the last chapter. I honestly can't explain how good your lovely reviews make me feel. I always write for myself, and wonder if anyone anywhere would ever like the things I write, whether any of it would be 'believable' or enjoyable for anyone other than myself. Hearing that there are other people who actually read my story, and some who read it several times, really makes me feel so grateful.**

 **You are all wonderful! I really hope you like this chapter, I decided to start it a little differently, and I really enjoyed writing from a new angle!**

* * *

"Why did you agree to see me?"

"Curiosity." Joker's eyes never seemed to blink. How did he manage to look so intense, yet so relaxed at the same time?

"You were curious about me? About what I wanted?"

"Something like that."

Joker leaned forwards in his chair but said nothing. He just looked at Sarah Cassidy with those ice-like eyes. He reminded Sarah of a viper: at any moment he would strike. He'd done it before, to her oldest friend. She hadn't been there to protect Harleen and the snake had stolen her away.

Why had she asked him to come here? She wasn't sure herself. All she knew was she had to get answers, to try and understand. She hadn't slept in weeks, not really. Her dreams were haunted by her friend: of her being dragged away kicking and screaming, being tortured and changed.

Of course, Sarah knew that wasn't what happened. She saw the footage, she knew Harleen had left willingly, but that didn't mean she wasn't taken. She was corrupted, influenced by this dangerous man, and she didn't know what she was doing. Every time Sarah saw Harleen she felt another wave of guilt, for not being there, for not realising what a dangerous path her friend had been walking. Why hadn't she seen the signs? She _had_ noticed something different about Harleen since she started working at Arkham, but Sarah had just assumed it was something to do with finding her calling. She'd been so stupid.

The clown still wasn't talking. Sarah imagined all those hours Harleen had spent in here with him: getting sucked into his insanity. She was so kind, so gentle, had it even been difficult for him to control her?

Sarah cleared her throat, desperate to start talking, to escape this silence. Perhaps he would stop staring at her if he was answering her questions. "I asked you here, because I want to understand."

Joker smiled. "You wouldn't be the first."

Sarah looked down at her notes. "Yes, you've been assessed by almost 100 doctors over the years, many of whom leave the profession after only a few sessions with you." She looked back up at him. "Why do you think that is?"

Joker shrugged. "Maybe they weren't cut out for it? Not everyone has what it takes to be a doctor. Sure, it sounds like a nice enough gig, but for all their good intentions, most end up with a few…scars." Sarah automatically reached up to touch the scar on her cheek: one of Zsasz' mementos. She put it back down quickly, embarrassed. Joker continued, "I just helped some of them realise it wasn't their calling."

"And Doctor Quinzel?" Sarah had spoken before she intended, but her hot head was taking over, and she couldn't stop herself. "What was her calling?"

A wider grin spread across Joker's face, his silver teeth glinting. "I have no idea where her future lies, only that it's gonna be a hell of a ride."

Sarah scowled, "I thought you'd be exactly the one to know, you being the one who lured her away from this place."

Joker raised an eyebrow. "Now I'm no Doctor, but I don't think this is the most professional attitude to take with a patient."

Sarah kept his gaze, and for a moment neither of them spoke, each simply staring at the other. Finally Sarah broke, pushing the button on the tape recorder in front of her. It stopped recording. "Ok, let's do it your way. The recorder is off, there are no cameras in here. Why don't you tell me what really happened?"

"What really happened?"

Sarah was angry. "Yes! Tell me what you did to her, how you managed to fuck up her sense of reality and make her think this… _thing_ you've created is the real her!"

Joker's grin disappeared. "That's what you think?"

"Yes."

He leaned forwards, his tone hard and unforgiving. "Well then, _Doctor_ Cassidy, seeing as you're so well informed, why don't you tell me exactly what happened? Tell me about your good friend, Doctor Quinzel, and how I stole her away from her wonderfully beige existence."

It was all it took for Sarah not to slap him across the face, but she kept her composure. She would play his little game if it meant she got answers. "Fine, you want to know what I think?" Joker nodded, and she leaned on the table, talking to him as though he were dirt on her shoe. Which was, as far as she was concerned, a step up from where she actually saw him. "I think you preyed on her insecurities. I think you found a woman who was scared and troubled, and you made her feel special. I think you told her what she wanted to hear, and made her feel like you were the only one who cared about her. I think you planted a seed in her mind and then stepped back and watched it grow into something poisonous. I think you made her trust you, but you aren't someone to be trusted-"

"Trust." Joker interrupted. "Trust is a funny thing Doctor Cassidy. Seems to me that of the two of us in this room, only one has betrayed Harleen's trust. Only one of us told her deepest secret to someone else, and for what? Validation? To impress another doctor with your fantastic diagnosis of a damaged woman being corrupted by the demon clown?"

Sarah's face flushed scarlet. "How did you know I-"

"Did you, or did you not, betray your friend in the most cruel way? You told a stranger something she entrusted to you, for him to throw back at her, reminding her most callously of her most painful memory."

Sarah felt like she'd been punched in the gut. "I…I told him because I thought it could help-"

The grin on Joker's lips was now cruel. "You don't know how to help Harleen. You don't know because you don't understand her. You said I found a woman who was scared and troubled, and made her feel special. You're wrong, I met a woman who was special and showed her how _not_ to be afraid. I didn't make her _think_ I was the only one who cared for her: I _was_ the only one."

"Bullshit!" Sarah interrupted, slamming her hands on the table, all pretence of professionalism out the window. "I cared for her! She was like my sister!"

"And yet you were so absorbed in your own life, in your own troubles, that you failed to notice her growing affection for a complete psychopath?" Joker tutted, "She was lucky to have you," He finished sarcastically. He leaned closer, "The seed I planted in her mind may have grown into something poisonous, but often the most deadly things in this world are the most beautiful. She finally understands of who she is, who she was always supposed to be. I make 'poor Harleen' do nothing. She is with me because she wants to be, and her actions are all her choice."

"You control her, psychologically."

Joker leaned back. "The difference between you and I, Doctor Cassidy, is that I don't think of her as someone who can be controlled. I don't think of her as weak. You do."

Sarah opened her mouth to argue, _how fucking dare he?!_ But then she realised.

He was right.

She had never openly admitted it to herself, but she did think of Harleen as weak. Not in a negative way, not really, just that she was someone who needed to be looked after. But in reality, that _was_ a bad way to think of her friend. Why did she see her like that? Why couldn't she see Harleen as her own person? As capable of making her own decisions? Maybe she hadn't been seduced into becoming something she wasn't, maybe Sarah just didn't know her at all?

Sarah sat in her chair, looking at the clown. He never broke her gaze. He knew he had won, she could see it in his eyes, but he said nothing.

"Do you love her?" Sarah heard herself ask.

"Yes."

Sarah sniffed. "Do you even know what that feels like? What it means?"

"Do you?"

Sarah almost smiled. "Maybe not, but I'm not dangerous."

"I'm not dangerous to her."

"Why do I feel like she's just a toy to you? That she's a fun accessory you can cart around with you until you tire of her?"

"Why is it up to me to put your insecurities to rest, Doctor Cassidy? If that's how you feel about Harleen, perhaps it's you who needs the therapy?"

Sarah leaned forward on the table. "If you fucking hurt her, I'll kill you. I don't care who you are. Maybe I haven't always been the friend I should've been, but I love her like a sister, and if you fuck this up I'll find you and cut your balls off."

Joker raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to meet her, shifting a little in his seat. "Now this is a Doctor I can get on board with. Shall we say, three sessions a week?"

Sarah sat back. "I don't think so." She pressed the button under the table, which called the guards back in. "Take him back to his cell," she muttered. "Our session is over."

* * *

"So, how have you been?" Harley asked. She was talking through the small ventilation grate on the lower wall of her cell. Crane's voice drifted through the other side.

"Oh just fantastic. You?"

"Meh," Harley replied with a smile. "Same old."

"I have to say, I'm surprised to see you in here."

"You haven't seen me yet."

Crane sighed. "As always, your sense of humour continues to inspire me."

"If I didn't make jokes, then who would you use your A-grade sarcasm on?"

"A fair point."

"I've got my reasons for being here," Harley continued. "How about you? Did you get caught?"

"Of course. I would never be stupid enough to come here willingly. Unless of course I had _'reasons'_."

Harley rolled her eyes, she forgot how damn smug and sarcastic this guy could be! Still, he was someone to talk to. Joker wasn't back from wherever he'd been taken, so she needed to kill time. "Where did they find you?"

"I was in a bar."

Harley wasn't expecting that. "I never saw you as much of a drinker."

"I never used to be."

"What changed?"

Crane didn't reply, and so the silence was his answer. Harley kicked herself for not thinking before speaking. _He drinks because you rejected him you idiot._

Harley changed the subject, trying to fill the silence. "Still, it's not so bad down here. Check out my girl Ivy over there. She's pretty cute, right?" Harley looked over. At that moment Ivy was looking at her beautiful plant mural.

Ok, looking wasn't quite right. She was singing to it.

 _She looks like a crazy person._

"Yes, she seems charming." Crane drawled.

"Ok, so she's a couple of daffodils short of a bouquet," Harley shrugged. "But she's hot though, right?"

"She's green."

"Only on the outside."

"…Unless you think I'm planning to cut her open, then the outside is really what matters in terms of physical appearance."

Harley grinned. "Good point." She yelled over. "Hey Ivy, stop singing to the flowers, you look crazy."

Ivy glanced over, smiling, but continued.

Harley heard movement coming from down the hall, she got to her feet. Joker was being taken back to his cell.

"Hey puddin'!" Harley called, kissing the glass.

Joker grinned.

"Did you enjoy your session cupcake?" Crane drawled. Harley's eyes widened, what was Crane doing?! Joker's smile flickered, but he only glanced at Crane lazily before heading into his cell. Harley moved back to the vent, hissing through. "Don't say things like that to him!"

" _You_ do."

"Yeah, I'm his girlfriend! You keep doing that and he'll put you in a box!"

"I'm already in a box, Harley."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not scared of him."

* * *

That evening Harley was taken to the showers by Bowles and another guard, the one who had yelled at her for talking to Ivy when she arrived. At the showers, these two handed her to two female guards, who then handed her back afterwards. Harley was beginning to feel like a pinball, constantly being bounced from one person to the other. She was in her orange jumpsuit again now, walking back to max. Her hair was still wet, and dripped cold water down her back. She shivered, why did they never take the time to dry her hair properly? She would probably get sick.

At the entrance to maximum security, Bowles' radio crackled. He answered it, and Harley heard snippets of the conversation: there was a riot down in the communal lunch area. All guards were needed to assist.

"You take her!" Bowles said to the other guard, "I've got to handle this!" He headed off down the hall. Harley sighed as she walked beside the guard down the corridor. She wondered what she would do to kill the time when she got back to her cell. Maybe she could try and get some chalks from Ivy? She could draw? But she'd never been much of an artist, and besides, how would she get them over anyway?

She absentmindedly looked at the guard's name tag as they walked.

"Princess?" She read, raising an eyebrow.

"It's Prince," he corrected angrily, through gritted teeth.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure it says 'princess'," Harley replied.

"It's the font."

"That's not the font-"

"It's Prince!" He spat, forcing her to stop walking and face him.

Harley widened her eyes, holding up her cuffed hands in surrender playfully. "Ok ok."

"What's this?" Crane asked, and Harley realised they were outside his cell. He stood at the glass.

"Sit down, inmate," Prince growled.

"I just thought his badge said 'Princess'," Harley explained in a very loud whisper. "But it's 'just the font'." She made air quotes with her fingers, and winked over-dramatically.

"How can a font add two s'?" Crane asked seriously.

"It's something about being cursive….I mean…stop talking inmate!" Prince argued.

"What's happening?" Ivy asked, coming to the glass of her cell.  
"Officer Princess is getting upset," Joker drawled from his bed.

"Shut up!"

"If you're having gender identity issues, I'd be happy to talk about it in one of our sessions," Crane began, jotting something on a notepad at his table. "This Friday?"

"Don't talk to me, fucking creep!" Prince's face was reddening.

"Take it easy, Princess," Joker said, still on his bed, eyes on the ceiling. "No need to get your panties in a twist."

"I said shut up! All of you!"

"Shh," Ivy soothed, putting her green hand against the glass. "Why don't you come here? I can make you feel better."

"Perhaps a nice flower for his hair?" Joker suggested.

Harley giggled. Prince was positively fuming, and turned to face her. "You think that's funny?" He asked. Harley didn't answer, but it didn't matter. He struck her quickly across the face, so hard she stumbled back and only just managed to stop herself from falling over. Harley's cheek was on fire, and she instinctively placed her cool hand against it protectively. Prince was looking at her, no, looking behind her. Harley turned. Joker was at the glass of his cell. She hadn't even heard him get up! He stared at Prince, his eyes blazing.

"What?" Prince stuttered. "You think I'm scared of you, clown? Huh?" He leaned forwards, pushing Harley's shoulders so she stumbled back again. "What are you gonna do about that?" He asked.

Did Joker just growl? Crane's voice came from behind Prince.

"I wouldn't do that."

Prince turned to look at Crane. "You think you can tell me what to do? None of you fuckin' psychos can tell me what to do!" He moved closer to Harley slapping her once more across the face. "Who's laughing now? Huh?!" His eyes were wild, and Harley spat blood onto the floor. She looked at Joker. He was grinning now, his silver teeth glinting menacingly. Harley smiled, turning back to face Prince.

"What?" He asked, suddenly looking nervous. "What are you smiling at you crazy bitch? Why is he looking at me like that?"

Harley spat more blood onto the floor. "He's thinking about how he's going to kill you, and I'm excited to see how he does it." She grinned even wider despite the pain in her face, licking a drop of blood off her top lip.

"That was a bad move," Crane said to Prince. "I'm sorry to say that you're going to find yourself floating in Gotham River by tomorrow morning with a stomach full of nails."

"Can I have his fingers, Joker?" Ivy asked. "I could use them for some of my carnivorous plants."

Joker didn't answer, his eyes never leaving those of the guard. Prince looked scared, but then something else washed over him. Rage. He stepped forwards, facing Joker through he glass. "You think I'm scared of you? You're trapped in there like a fish in a bowl. I can do whatever I like, and there's nothing you can do about it. Like this." He moved closer to Harley. She should've seen it coming but he was too fast. He kicked her hard in the stomach, knocking her to the floor. When she was down, he began kicking her repeatedly in the stomach and legs. Over and over, so many times Harley lost count. Ivy was yelling something. So was Crane. She could see him watching her, angry and pounding the glass. The next kick turned her over, and she caught sight of Joker. He was making no noise, but he watched her, his eyes locked with her own.

 _I will kill him,_ they said. _I will make him suffer for what he is doing._

Harley nodded.

Suddenly the kicks stopped, and Prince was screaming. Joker was watching something happening behind her, and it took all the strength Harley had to turn her head. When she finally saw it, she had to close her eyes and open them several times to be sure she wasn't dreaming. A large, green vine had snaked it's way through the key hole of Ivy's cell, and had wrapped around Prince. It was squeezing him tightly, pulling him away from Harley. He was going blue from being held so tight.

 _Where did she get that?_ Harley thought hazily.

A siren sounded, and guards appeared from the door at the back of the corridor. They ran towards them, all ignoring Harley and moving for the vine. One had an axe, and chopped Prince free. Ivy screamed with rage at the killing of her plant, but the men ignored her, helping Prince to his feet and leading him away. Two more guards appeared with a gurney, and lifted Harley onto it. As she was wheeled away she caught one more glimpse of Joker and he nodded.

She knew Prince wouldn't see the morning.

* * *

Harley opened her eyes, panicking for a moment when she couldn't remember where she was. Then the memories came flooding back: being kicked and stamped on while lying on the floor of maximum security. Harley looked around: she was in the medical wing, strapped down onto a hospital bed. Her body felt tender, and though her arms were restrained, she could just about see the huge yellow and purple bruises on the skin beneath the thin sheet.

"How are you feeling?"

Harley turned her head to the left, realising for the first time that Aaron Cash was sitting beside her. Harley shrugged, which was far more painful than she anticipated.

"I've felt better."

"Well you look great." Cash grinned and Harley laughed.

"I'm sure." Harley glanced around the room. Not much to look at, but at least she had a window. She'd forgotten how much she missed looking outside!

"What happened?" Cash asked, bringing her back to the present.

"I got beaten up."

Cash raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I gathered that much. Why?"

Harley was confused, "What do you mean 'why'?"

"Why did the guard beat you?"

Harley could see where this was going. "Has he said something? Did he say I deserved it?"

Cash's tone was flat. "He said you were trying to escape and you assaulted him when he stopped you."

Harley had to laugh out loud. She was practically hysterical at the idea of trying to escape: like she would leave Joker behind?!

"I take it that's not what happened?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that I'm supposed to believe a guard over a dangerous patient, but parts of his story don't add up, and I just can't see it." Cash got to his feet, "Still, I suppose it doesn't really matter now."

"He's dead?" Harley asked.

"Found this morning. They say he slit his throat."

"Terrible."

Cash narrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not sure how he managed to do that after cutting all of his fingers off and disposing of them, but no one cares what I think."

Harley never broke Cash's gaze. He didn't ask her whether Joker had done it. He didn't need to, she could tell he already knew.

"I'm glad you're ok," Cash said quietly.

"Don't worry about me, C," Harley grinned. "I've got a guardian angel."

Cash raised an eyebrow. "Something like that."

* * *

Harley was taken back to her cell a few days later. She could walk, but only just. To her surprise, Bowles took her straight to Joker's cell. Not that she was complaining.

As soon as the bolt slid securely into place, Harley had melted into Joker's arms. She didn't need to say anything, and neither did he. Joker led her to his bed, and they laid down together. Harley clung to him as tightly as she could, feeling as though she might be wrenched away at any moment.

"How was your day?" Joker's question was so casual, so normal, despite their surroundings, that she couldn't help but smile.

"Fine, yours?"

"Interesting."

Harley leaned back a little so she could look at him. "How so?"

"Jonny's got himself into a little trouble."

Harley raised an eyebrow questioningly. Joker continued, "He's been arrested."

Harley was shocked, she wasn't expecting that! "What for?"

Joker shrugged, "Doesn't matter, but he's stuck until we break him out."

"But we're stuck in here?" Suddenly it all hit Harley at once. "So he can't break us out like he did for you last time. Does that mean we have to stay here?!" Her heart began to pound. The only thing getting her through being in this place was the knowledge that Jonny would be breaking them out as soon as Joker's work was done. But with him locked up, they were stuck in Arkham! And with Joker's history, and Harley having killed three women since arriving, it was unlikely they'd be up for early release.

But Joker looked as relaxed as usual.

"No sweetheart, as soon as my business with Doctor Young is over we're breaking out of this place. It's just going to be a little more…exciting, than last time." Joker flashed his silver teeth. Harley remembered the last time Joker had escaped: the explosions, the deaths, the mutilations.

How much more exciting could it get?


	32. Chapter 32

_Hi everyone! Sorry for such a long delay, things have been manic recently at work, and I've also been a bit preoccupied with writing my book. If anyone fancies reading it when it's done (if you like young adult zombie novels!) then message me, as I could use some fresh eyes._

 _Hope you like the chapter, thanks so much for your continued support and lovely messages, it literally means the world to me. Sorry you've had to wait so long, I'll try to make sure the next one is much quicker! :)_

* * *

"Twenty-four."

"What's that?"

"There are twenty-four tiles on the ceiling of this cell. Four by six." Harley was lying on her bed staring up at the yellowing tiles. She was bored out of her mind. Crane's voice came from the vent in the wall of her cell.

"Now you've spoilt it for me, I was just about to count mine."

Harley smiled. "Sorry." She sighed, slowly cycling her legs in the air. "I'm so bored."

"It's like they don't care about our enjoyment at all."

"I know, right?"

Harley rolled onto her side, looking out of the glass wall of her cell. She was feeling better now, her bruises were beginning to fade. Now she was just bored. She'd had nothing to do for days. No therapy, no meetings with Joker. Even talking with Bowles would've been a change, but no such luck. Her food had been dropped into the cell by a mute female guard with zero personality, and she'd had no other interactions besides Crane. And even he wasn't much of a conversationalist: it was always her who started the conversations. She was wondering whether he was worried about what Joker might do if he spoke to her too much, but that hadn't bothered him before?

Ivy was keeping herself busy. She always seemed to have things to do: first her flower mural, and now writing something. A letter, Harley assumed, to one of her many admirers. Though it was completely against the rules, Ivy was on first name terms with every guard who had any interaction with her, and many were so enamored that they forgot even the most basic rules, like remembering to put her cuffs on when she left the cell. The amount of times Frank Bowles had yelled at a guard who was just casually walking alongside her was almost laughable, and Harley was sure she had seen one or two actually trying to hold her hand.

Harley leaned a little so she could see what Joker was doing. As usual, however, his cell was so dark that she could hardly see him. She sighed, getting back into a comfortable position on the bed.

 _Maybe I can count up the tiles in twos now?_

 _Calm down, save something for tomorrow._

Harley heard the little hatch in her door open, and glanced up to see Frank Bowles holding a scrap of paper through the gap. He looked annoyed.

"Take this," he muttered. Harley got to her feet, heading over. She brushed her hand purposefully over Bowles' as she grabbed the paper. "Thanks, Frankie," she said in a husky voice, then winked. Bowles rolled his eyes and snapped the hatch shut.

Harley hurried back to her bed, sitting down and opening the paper. She grinned widely: here was one of Joker's beautiful pictures. A sketch of her lying on the bed, counting her ceiling tiles. He'd made her look stunning, even with the bruises, with an expression of pure contentment. She looked over, there he was, watching her through the glass. She blew him a kiss. He nodded, and she realised he was telling her to turn the paper over. She did, there was some writing on the back.

 _Here we go baby. Things are about to get real exciting!_

That was it, no more information! Harley looked up again, Joker was still smiling, and stepped back into the darkness of his cell.

* * *

A few hours later, Harley was collected for her therapy session. Sarah raised an eyebrow when she saw her, but said nothing. After what seemed like an eternity the guard left the room, and Harley spoke.

"Admiring my new look?" She asked, aware that her face had not fully healed yet.

"Looks like you've been keeping yourself busy," Sarah replied.

"Funny thing is, for once, it wasn't my fault," Harley yawned. "Well, I mean, I did make fun of the guys name, but I was practically flirting."

Sarah looked a little concerned now. "It was a man?" Her eyebrows narrowed, though her expression was disbelieving when she asked, "Was it Joker?"

Harley practically laughed out loud. "No. Don't forget, I'm in isolation. No interaction with my beloved." She said this over-dramatically, and Sarah practically scoffed.

"Oh come on, Harley. Don't think I don't know what goes on down in max. Frank Bowles is practically Joker's pet."

Harley had to admit, she was a little surprised at that. If everyone knew about Bowles, why had no one fired him? Sarah answered the unasked question: "No one else seems to know or care about Frank. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Why? I thought you'd want any excuse to get him into trouble."

"Frank?"

"Joker."

Sarah sighed. "I suppose…I think I understand him a little more." She leaned a little closer, her fingers knitting together in front of her. "I spoke to him. He…I think he was honest with me."

"He doesn't lie," Harley interrupted. "If you're honest with him, he'll give you the same back."

"He makes you happy?" Sarah asked.

"Yes."

Sarah nodded. "I'm sorry."

 _Another_ surprise. Harley wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm sorry for telling Doctor Riley that…I'm just sorry. It was wrong of me."

Harley shrugged, this kind of emotional minefield was exactly the kind of thing she tried to avoid these days. But Sarah, apparently, felt differently. She leaned across the table, taking hold of Harley's cuffed hands in her own. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I didn't ask what was going on with you. I'm glad you're happy, but I'm not going to pretend that I don't wish I could've stopped it."

"I know."

"But I'm here now. Not as your therapist, but as your friend. And I'm ready to listen. If you want to talk."

Harley tried to read Sarah's face. There was no medical curiosity there, no professionalism. This was just a friend, wanting to look after another. Harley didn't want to have some kind of intense emotional breakthrough, but she did want to talk.

"Get out," Harley whispered.

Sarah cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"Get out," she repeated, freeing her hands from Sarah's. "I mean it, something big is about to happen. You need to get out of here, right now. I don't want you to get caught up in it."

Sarah glanced around, then leaned in closer. "What? What's going to happen?"

"I don't know," Harley admitted honestly. "But you have to trust me. Please, if you really care about me, you need to get out of here before it all starts."

"If you're right, I can't leave you." Sarah's eyes blazed. "I could try to get you out!"

Harley was surprised for the third time in this session, but she smiled gently, taking Sarah's hand again. "Thanks, but you know exactly how that would go." She let go, leaning back. "Besides, I want to see how this goes down."

"Will you be safe?"

Harley nodded. "Joker will protect me."

Sarah sighed. "I know."

"Please get out of here."

Sarah nodded, immediately getting to her feet. She pressed the button on the desk, calling for the guard.

"That's it?" The guard asked as he opened the door, clearly surprised at the short session.

"Yes," Sarah replied briskly. "I'm feeling unwell, I'm going home."

The guard nodded, motioning for Harley to get up. She caught Sarah's eye one last time, and gave her a wink.

Sarah mouthed two words: _good luck._

* * *

Harley was back in her cell, back on the bed with her eyes on the ceiling.

 _You know, I love Joker, but maybe coming here wasn't the best idea I ever had._

She sighed, rolling onto her side just in time for the first explosion. Harley's eyes widened as the explosions rang out throughout the asylum. The walls shook, and she got to her feet. There was smoke everywhere, she couldn't see out of the glass wall of her cell. But then there was a voice, a voice she knew all too well.

"Stand back, baby."

Harley did as instructed, moving until her back hit the cold cement wall. The door to her cell blew open with an enormous crash, and Harley shielded her eyes against the smoke. She moved her hands back just as the dust was beginning to settle, and there he was, her Joker, standing in the doorway to her cell wearing his trademark grin.

"Hello, baby."

Harley squealed, running over and flinging her arms around his neck.

"You wanna get out of here?" He asked. Harley grinned.

"You read my mind, Puddin'!"

Joker took her by the hand, leading her from her cell. "Where's Ivy?" Harley asked, seeing the door to her friend's cell wide open, and the cell itself empty.

Joker grinned, "She's out already, having fun. Helping me, actually."

The two of them began to walk down the corridor, but were interrupted by the sound of Crane's voice, behind the now blackened glass of his cell.

"I'll just wait here," he said sarcastically.

Harley pulled on Joker's hand. "We should let him out," she insisted.

Joker rolled his eyes. "I'd rather not."

"Come on, baby, for me?" Her request may have been more attractive to Joker if Crane hadn't immediately added, "Yes, baby, I'd really appreciate it."

 _I want to kill you, Crane._

Joker growled, and Harley knew she was the only person he allowed to pet-name him. She'd rarely seen him so irritated by someone. Angry, sure. Cheerfully antagonistic? A million times. But he rarely seemed actually annoyed by anyone. But he was now. She knew he was conflicted, however, because for whatever reason in his technicolored mind, he wanted to make her happy. He handed her what she vaguely recognised as an explosive charge.

"You want to let your pet out? Be my guest, but I'm not waiting to watch him hump your leg. I'll meet you outside." And with that he stalked off, leaving Harley alone in the corridor, listening to the sounds of chaos in the asylum around her.

Crane's silky voice was to her left. "So…What's new?"

"Ugh, sometimes, Crane, I really hate you."

"I know."

Harley stuck the explosive to his door, muttering, "You know, for someone who's supposed to be in love with me, you don't seem to give a damn whether you piss me off."

"Maybe I like it when you're-"

BANG!

Crane was cut off by the sound of his door exploding open. Moments later he appeared, covered in dust and rubbing his left ear. He looked at her with wide eyes. "A little warning might've been nice, Harleen."

Harley grinned. "Now we're even." She turned, heading in the direction Joker came, but Crane pulled her hand, turning her back.

"Wait," he muttered, his eyes down the corridor.

 _Probably looking for Joker._

"We don't have time for this," Harley said gently.

"This is the only time," Crane sighed. He was still holding Harley's hand, but it was gentle now. Too gentle, Harley didn't like where this was going.

"Harleen…" He seemed to be struggling to form the words. Was this one of the first times she'd ever seen him nervous? He was always so smug, so self-assured. She wasn't sure how to feel about this.

"I'm not thrilled with the idea of embarrassing myself further by repeating my feelings for you," he finally began, eyes on the floor. "But I know I would always regret it if I didn't ask you, just once, to choose me." His eyes met hers, and she saw something vulnerable there. He wasn't the super villain, Scarecrow, he wasn't even smug Doctor Crane. He was just Jonathan Crane. He continued, his voice steady. "I could take care of you. I would make sure you never ended up in a place like this again. I would worship you, treat you like the wonderful, beautiful, intelligent creature you are. I would make you happy."

She briefly wondered what it would have been like if they'd both met in a different life. Maybe if they weren't both technically insane. Maybe if she wasn't so in-love with her crazy, fucked-up clown. Maybe.

"Crane-"

He shook his head. "Don't. You don't have to say it, I know your answer." Then, without warning, he took hold of her cheeks and pulled her into him. His kiss was different, gentle, yet passionate, and just for a moment, she was lost in it. She allowed the two of them five seconds, five seconds of what it would be like if things were different, then she gently pulled away.

Crane looked almost out of breath, but he smiled, regaining his composure immediately.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I know."

"If things were different-"

He held up a hand, but it was not a stern action, but one of understanding. "I know," he repeated. "Take care of yourself, Harley."

"You too. Please."

Crane nodded, stepping back, towards the now blown open fire exit on the other side of the corridor. Harley headed in the opposite direction, a strange feeling in her stomach, like she would never see him again.

 _Maybe that would be better._

* * *

Joker wasn't outside. He was at the end of the corridor, watching her with those intense eyes. He stepped closer, reminding her again of just how much taller than her he was. He wiped a tear off her cheek, one she hadn't realised she had let slip.

When she spoke, her voice was meek. _"_ Did you see-"

He nodded.

"I told him no," Harley whispered.

Joker said nothing for a moment, then spoke softly, in a voice she had so rarely heard. "Are you sure that was the right choice?"

Harley looked up, seeing a completely different pair of eyes looking back at her. Usually cold and emotionless, Joker's eyes were now full of something else. Desperation? He wasn't crying, of course: he was Joker after all, but she was almost seeing the same vulnerability in him that she'd just seen in Crane.

 _What are you doing to these men, Harley? Whatever it is, stop doing it!_

Joker continued, though his voice was stronger now. "He might be better, safer, than me."

Harley cocked her head to the side. "Do you _want_ me to pick him?"

Joker spoke through gritted teeth. "No. I want you to choose me. Actually I want you to choose me and then tell me to kill him. I want you to watch me kill him and laugh." He softened. "But I'll settle for choosing me."

Harley felt a smile play on her lips. Only Joker could make her grin by telling her he wanted to murder someone. "I do choose you," she said, putting her hands on his chest. "It's always you. It always has been, and it always will be."

"Things will never be safe. I can't live a normal life, even if I wanted to."

Harley shrugged. "Normal's a setting on the dryer. I want you, and everything that comes with it."

Joker grinned, sweeping her up into his arms and kissing her, slowly yet forcefully. "Good," he said when he finally released her. "And about the other thing-"

"You're not killing him," Harley insisted.

A little frown settled over Joker's brow, but then it was gone. "Worth a shot," he shrugged, taking her by the hand and leading her from max into the main facility.

* * *

"So what's the plan?" Harley asked, watching as patients ran riot all around them. Joker had a gun, though she had no idea where he had got it from.

 _Probably the same place he got those explosives._

Most people, patients and the few remaining guards alike, avoided the two of them like the plague. A couple of the patients who usually wore straitjackets got too close, one of them actually trying to bite Joker's arm. Joker didn't even flinch, shooting him in the head and stepping over the body like it was nothing.

"How is Ivy helping you?" Harley asked. Then her question was answered, as one of Ivy's trademark vines slammed through one of the walls and into another. This one was big though, much bigger than the one she had seen before, and had a green glow to it.

"Doctor Young finally made good on her formula," Joker explained. "And I gave a little to Ivy in exchange for her getting me a few things from her admirers."

 _That explains the gun and explosives, and the guns held by some of the other patients._

"And you're going to use the toxin to make your boys stronger, right?"

"Exactly."

"Is it safe?"

Joker shrugged, "I don't know. We'll soon see." He winked, and Harley couldn't help but giggle like a little girl. Why was she like this around him? Luckily he didn't seem to mind how ditzy she came across.

They opened the doors to the asylum, and headed out into the grounds. There was more chaos out there: more fighting between prisoners and guards. Harley couldn't help but feel something like a stone in the pit of her stomach. She scanned the faces of the guards getting beaten down, some of them killed. She didn't care about them, any of them.

Except one.

"Don't worry," Joker said, following her frantic eye movements. "They're not going to hurt Cash."

 _How did he know I was thinking that?_

Harley looked up at Joker. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "They've got him locked up in the warden's office. Sedated. He'll be safe, I promise."

"How can you be sure?"

Joker grinned, and Harley already knew the answer: they'd be too scared of Joker to do anything other than follow his instructions exactly. She grinned, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Love you, baby."

"Right back at ya."

* * *

Harley and Joker made their way almost leisurely through the chaos of the grounds, towards the car that Joker had arranged to be waiting. Harley had no idea how this had been arranged, what with Jonny being locked up, but that didn't matter. When Mr J wanted something done, it just got done.

"Huh, that's new." Joker had stopped, and Harley followed his gaze to where a large plant sat, right in the middle of the path.

"One of Ivy's, I suppose," Harley guessed.

"Looks like it," Joker replied. Harley could see green light rippling from within the plant. As they watched, one of the patients ran past, tripping over the plant in his haste. As he did so, the folds of the petals opened up, and a purple bubble drifted into the air. The patient, like Harley and Joker, watched the bubble rise. Harley felt almost hypnotised by it's beauty. Then she felt Joker's hand on her stomach, pulling her back. At that moment the bubble popped, and thousands of spores were released: all immediately moving towards the patient.

He choked, seemingly unable to breathe. Then froze, green light rippling beneath the skin.

"That's the Titan formula?" Harley asked. Joker nodded. They watched as the man began to grow. His skin seemed to stretch as he grew two feet taller, and his muscles swelled and swelled. He went from a scrawny little man to looking like Mr Universe. Joker grinned.

"Wow," Harley remarked.

"Now imagine an army of those," Joker added, holding out his arms gleefully.

It was hard to imagine the army, however, as seconds later the man exploded. Literally blew to bits, with chunks of skin and bits of bone flying through the air. Joker stepped in front of Harley at just the right moment, shielding her from most of the gore, though she still got a little.

He turned back to face her, bloodied and looking a little shocked.

"Maybe it needs a little more work?" He suggested, and Harley couldn't help but laugh. "We'll put that plan on hold for now," he continued, looking at the puddle on the floor. "Let's get out of here."

But Joker's positivity was short lived, as seconds later Harley felt something hard and solid hit the back of her feet. She just had time to register the expression on Joker's face: a mixture of horror and fury, before she was pulled upwardss at great speed.

Harley wanted to scream, but she didn't have time as she was pulled high into the air. Up and up, higher and higher, until Joker looked like nothing more than a small doll. She was upside down when she finally came to a halt, swinging from the top of one of the small outcrops of the cliffs surrounding the facility. She was spinning slowly, not wanting to look. She'd never liked heights.

 _No, I can't be that person._

She opened her eyes, and unfortunately she was currently facing outwards. She could see the asylum grounds below, with he tiny people still fighting. She couldn't see Joker anymore.

"You know, this is really bad timing," she sighed. "I had plans with my boyfriend tonight."

She waited as the rope turned, and finally she rotated around to face her kidnapper. She was hardly surprised to see who it was.

"Hi Batsy," she grinned. "No hard feelings about last time?"


	33. Chapter 33

**Hi guys, thanks for the lovely reviews for the last chapter (one of which pretty much made me cry it was so nice, so thank you TB for that!), and to all of you for following/favourting this story and me as a writer.**

 **Just to give you a heads up, this story will be drawing to a close soon. I had the idea right from the start about how I wanted this to end, and I feel that it's the most natural way to close this story. However, while I had initially planned to finish there and then move on to something different, I had this (what I thought at least) amazing idea for where to go with a sequel. So if anyone is interested in reading the next part to the story, then please follow/favourite me as an author and then I think that when I write something new, you should get a notification? I might be wrong, but if not, and you're interested, check back in a few weeks and there might be something new! I couldn't quite bring myself to end Joker and Harley's story quite so soon.**

 **Anyway, we're not at the end quite yet, and I hope you enjoy the chapter :) Thanks again to everyone who reads, you've been very patient with me and so supportive, and I love getting to write this story for you (and for me!).**

* * *

"Quinn." Batman's voice was as cold as it always seemed to be, yet there was something else there. An undertone of annoyance perhaps? Harley couldn't help but get the feeling he probably wasn't her biggest fan. Of course, Harley being Harley, the idea of cracking a closed book like the Bat made her positively giddy, and she beamed at the mention of her name.

"You remember little old me?" She giggled. "Oh Batsy, I feel so special."

"Quiet, Quinn. I have no time for your games tonight."

Harley raised an eyebrow, still slowly rotating upside down from her ankles.

"So you wanna play them another night? I can't say I'm not tempted, I've always had a thing for tough guys. Damaged guys. Ones who were dangerous." She met his eye with a smile. "Well, you know my type."

Batman didn't answer, turning around. At first Harley thought he might be leaving her there, and had a sudden flash of panic at the idea of spinning around in circles all night while the blood slowly rushed to her head.

 _And my hair. Let's not forget how much this will mess up my hair._

But then she heard Batman's voice, from not too far away. As she did another rotation, she could see him, his hand hovering over a taught stretch of rope. It was the same one holding her up, and was tied off around a jagged rock to Batman's right.

"I could leave you there all night,' he began, his voice threatening. "You'll probably pass out before too long."

Harley could see where this was going. "Or?"

"Or I could let you down, and you could come with me."

"I'd rather come _before_ you."

Did Batman raise an eyebrow? She hoped so. But he wasn't saying anything, spoiling her fun, so she sighed. "Fine, I'll be good."

He paused for a moment, then pulled at the rope, pulling her closer before dumping her unceremoniously on the ground. She quickly untied her feet and got up, dusting herself down. Batman was watching her closely, and Harley narrowed her eyes.

"It's rude to stare, you know?"

"Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"This way."

Batman gestured for her to walk ahead, and she made her way through the narrow winding path back down towards the asylum again. There was still a great deal of noise, screaming, gunfire, and general chaos, and as they got closer Harley could see patients running and fighting all around. Joker, however, was nowhere to be seen. Harley stopped, looking around for her clown, but Batman's hand was on her back, pushing her forwards.

"Not so rough Batsy," she muttered. "You haven't paid for me."

He pushed her towards the medical building, and Harley couldn't help but get flashbacks of her time on the electroshock therapy table. She found her pace slowing, surely Batman wouldn't be planning the same thing?

 _No, he's not like that._

 _You're not exactly the best judge of character_.

He pushed her onwards again, towards the heavy doors. Once inside, where it was much quieter, Batman led her to a small room. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and she guessed he had to have some kind of plan. Batman always had a plan. The question was, however, what was it? Why did he need Harley? If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she wouldn't like it.

He pointed to a chair at the far end of the room: facing the door, and Harley lowered herself onto it, mind still frantically planning some method of escape. She thought, however briefly, about fighting him. She was pretty good at hand to hand combat: fast at least, but she knew she'd be no match for him. Batman probably didn't like to beat down women, but Harley had no doubt that he would if there was no alternative. He took her left arm, tying her by the wrist to the arm of the chair, then did the same with the right.

"Ow," Harley said, monotonically. It didn't really hurt, truth be told he had tied her securely, but not painfully, to the chair. However she hadn't spoken in a while, and couldn't resist saying something to irritate him.

It worked, she heard him sigh uncharacteristically, before asking: "Will you stay quiet? Or do I need to gag you?"

Harley flashed a wicked grin. "That sounds fun!" Batman, of course, had no reaction to her response, so she rolled her eyes. "Fine, Bats, I'll be quiet. You know, you're kind of dull."

Batman stalked away towards the door, his cape fluttering dramatically as he turned.

 _He's always one for theatricality._

 _Seriously, Harley? Who are you to talk? Your boyfriend is a clown, who you jumped into acid to prove your love for. You're someone who has a living breathing bear for a pet, and who laughed while psycho women tattooed your face because you didn't want to break character. Let's not talk about overdoing the 'role'._

She was distracted from her thoughts by Batman, who was reaching for something in his belt. As he turned, Harley could see it was a syringe.

"What have you got there?" She asked, but he didn't answer. It didn't matter, Harley wasn't stupid, and it didn't take her long to work out his plan.

"You think you're gonna stick that in Mister J?" She always ramped up the accent when talking to the Bat: his crisp way of speaking made her want to be his polar opposite. "He's not gonna like that."

Batman didn't answer again, simply standing still to the left of the door now, watching her. Harley, meanwhile, was putting together the different parts of his plan.

"So, let me guess. You captured me because you want to lure Joker in here, then stick him with your needle? What have you got in there? A sedative? Strong, I bet. Then you tie him up and deliver him back to the warden. What does he give you? A pat on the back? A hug? Does that make you feel fulfilled, Batsy? Is that why you do it: to make you feel like the good-guy?"

It seemed he was finally ready to humour her. That or he was sick of her talking, because he finally spoke up.

"Sometimes, Quinn, people do things without a thought for their own reward. They do things because it's right."

Harley cocked her head to the left. "I like it when you call me 'Quinn', Batsy. It's hot."

He turned away, but something inside Harley was bubbling. Anger. She was angry at what he said. He spoke as if he was better than her, as if he knew her. He didn't know shit.

When she spoke next, her voice lost its playfulness. It was strong, yet flat.

"I used to be the same as you. In my past life. When I worked here, I was all about helping others, didn't care about myself, I just wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted to make a difference, and bring comfort to the most vulnerable members of our society.

"That worked out real well, until I got attacked in my home by a patient. That was before I was almost raped by a guard, of course. Or was it after? Those things get kind of fuzzy because some guys strapped me down on a table and electrocuted me because I happened to walk into the room and interrupt them trying to kill someone." She stared the bat down, her eyes cold now. "Trying to do the right thing is only good for getting you hurt. You may feel good about yourself for now, but one day you're going to wake up and the world will still be as fucked up as it's always been, and you'll be alone and unfulfilled because you'll realise you never made a difference, and you never did what made you happy."

Was he surprised by her words? Or just bored of speaking to her? Either way, he didn't say anything for a while. Harley looked away, her eyes suddenly filling with hot, unwelcome tears. She blinked, suddenly desperate for the Bat not to see, not to know she was weak. When she felt clear, she looked back up, surprised to see he was still watching her.

"What makes you think he'll come for me?" She asked. "He's probably far from here by now."

Batman shook his head, his voice a little softer when he spoke. "We both know he wouldn't leave without his favourite toy."

"We also both know he's unpredictable and lives for doing the thing you least expect. You took a big risk catching me and not him. Was it really worth it just to try and draw him into a smaller space?"

It was something in the way he shifted, only a fraction of a movement, but she noticed it, and suddenly it became clear. Harley let out a little squeal.

"You weren't trying to capture me! You wanted him, but you missed!"

Batman didn't reply, but he didn't need to, his silence said it all. Harley giggled, suddenly overwhelmed and unable to control her laughter: like a child in school, laughing and laughing despite the angry looks of the teacher. Finally, after what was probably at least a minute and a half, she reigned it in.

"Wow, the great detective, master of all he does, manages to overshoot and miss the mark completely."

"It was far away!" Batman snapped back, in a way Harley had never heard him speak before. Almost like a petulant child, and though he was wearing his mask, she was sure she could see a flicker of horror on his face at losing his cool.

Harley put on her most sympathetic (yet not really sympathetic and completely over-the-top) face. "Don't worry, Batsy, your secret is safe with me."

* * *

They had been in the room for what felt like an eternity, and Harley had (for the most part) been quiet. She was thinking, trying to work out how to get out of this mess, but had so far had no ideas whatsoever.

At that moment there was movement outside the door, and Batman seemed to tense up. Harley's heart was racing, she needed to think of something. She may been acting casual, but she knew that Joker was coming for her. Of course he would come for her. He always came for her. But the moment he stepped through the door, the Bat would stab him with the needle and that would be it. How would the two of them ever get out of Arkham after that? They might not even be kept here, she might be shipped elsewhere. Then how would they find each other? Harley may have been strong, but she would be nothing without the clown, and everyone knew it.

The sound was a false alarm, Harley could see a number of patients running past, yelling excitedly as they sprinted to freedom. Though technically they were running the wrong way if they wanted freedom. They were heading towards the drugs store, so maybe they were excited about something different.

 _I'm not staying here any longer. I need to get out. I need to stop this_.

But how could she do it? She could try to break free and tackle the bat?

 _Yeah. That will go down really well. I can just see me flying through the air to fight the Batman, before he smears me on the floor. Besides, I'm tied down to this chair._

 _I could try to distract him?_

 _With what? Again, still tied to the chair._

Harley's eyes roamed the room, looking for any possible escape methods. Perhaps a knife by her feet with a label that said: 'Stab Batman with this, Harley.'

She didn't see a knife, but there was something better! One of Ivy's vines was slowly snaking its way into the vent above Batman's head. It was a smaller one, but relatively thick, and glistening with green light. Batman hadn't seen it yet, and Harley forced herself not to look at it.

"Say, Batsy," she began, heart racing as she tried to distract him. "What do you do for fun when you're not fighting super villains?"

No reply, but he was looking at her now, and the vine was snaking ever further into the room.

"I mean, do you have any hobbies? Flower pressing? Crochet? I've always pictured you as someone with a stuffed animal collection. Don't ask me why." The vine snaked around Batman's ankles, but he had yet to notice.

"What about sex? Do you do much of that? I hear all the cool kids are doing it."

He sighed at her, and she couldn't help but feel he might be about to be true to his word and get something to gag her with. Luckily, at this point it didn't matter, because within seconds the vine had taken hold, pulling Batman up into the air. He struggled, but the vine continued to twist and constrict, holding him in place. It had continued to wind and wrap around his whole body now, there was no chance he was getting free without help. Moments later the door burst open, and Joker appeared. He walked in, glanced lazily at Batman, then moved towards Harley.

"Hey, princess," he grinned, leaning down and kissing her passionately on the lips. "Sorry I'm late."

"That's ok, Puddin', I was talking to my friend." She nodded at the Bat, still struggling against the vine. Joker cut the rope from her wrists, freeing her.

"Shall we get out of here?"

"Love to!"

Harley took hold of Joker's hand, skipping cheerfully towards the door. As they approached, she could see Batman still struggling to free himself, but it was no good. He was completely at the mercy of Ivy's plant. Harley paused in front of him, forcing Joker to stop beside her. She moved forwards, reaching for his mask, but Joker gently yet firmly pulled her arm back.

"I want to see," she insisted. "I want to know who he is!"

"No one's who they think you are, my dear. Why spoil it?"

Harley pouted, but nodded. She blew a kiss at Batman as they left the room. "See you Batsy!"

"You will." It was a promise, but Harley ignored it. She let Joker lead her from the room.

* * *

As they left the medical building, and found themselves outside once more, Harley took a big breath, for what felt like the first time in hours. She glanced around, it was quieter now, in fact other than a couple of patients in the distance near the jetty, she could see no one else in sight. There were, however, a lot more plants around, all glistening with that same green light.

"Wow," Harley breathed. "It's like a jungle out here."

Joker nodded, leading her rather more briskly than she expected, towards the car park. Harley couldn't help but be a little suspicious of his actions.

"What's going on?" She asked. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Nothing, I'm just ready to go," he replied, shaking his head. "Don't you want to get out of here?"

But Harley narrowed her gaze. "You got Ivy to save me, right? What did you give her in return?"

"She's your friend, she wanted to help."

For some reason, Harley couldn't quite believe it was that simple. Ivy had seemed a little more, unhinged, recently. And now, with her plants freely taking over the island? She didn't imagine her friend had much thought for Harley any more. "You gave her something…You gave her more Titan?"

Joker paused, nodding. "Yes."

"And you think she's going to be mad when she realises it doesn't work?"

"It works," Joker interrupted. "It makes people stronger."

"Uhuh. It blew that guy up, sweetie."

"We don't know it does that to everyone."

"I think you're clutching at straws."

A grin played on his lips. "Well then, we better get out of here as quickly as possible."

* * *

They moved towards the car park, and Joker swiftly made his way between the cars. He seemed to be looking for something in particular. The air seemed to be getting colder, and Harley was only in her prison jumpsuit. She wrapped her arms across her chest.

"Hurry up, Puddin', I'm getting cold."

Joker headed off suddenly, and Harley knew he'd seen something. She followed him, seeing what had caught his attention. Parked at the back of the small car park was a red sports car, a Jaguar maybe?

"What's that doing here?" Harley asked, as Joker casually smashed the window open. "I didn't earn this much when I was a therapist." She looked at the name on the parking spot: Doctor Riley. She grinned: the guy who had been in the therapy session with her and Sarah. She wondered how he'd feel when he found his car gone.

 _Actually, if his car's still here he might be dead._

 _So either way, win win!_

"Don't be sad, sweetheart, I'll buy you something pretty on the way home." Joker was doing something under the dashboard, the purpose of which became clear when the engine roared to life.

"Hop in," he called from the drivers seat, and unlocking the door for her. Harley skipped over cheerfully, sliding in beside him. Her heart was racing, she was going to get off the island! Joker squeezed her knee, before slamming the car into reverse and then speeding out of the parking lot.

* * *

The car roared away towards the Arkham gates. More and more plants seemed to be sprouting up out of nowhere, and Harley couldn't fight the feeling they were reaching for the car. Joker seemed to sense it too, because he accelerated even more, pushing the car to the limit. But they couldn't go for long, because there was a large, thick vine stretched across the road, blocking their path. It wasn't reaching for them like the others seemed to be, but simply too big for them to drive around or over.

"What should we do?" Harley whispered.

Joker revved the engine. Harley read his mind. "You want to drive through it? That's crazy! You're crazy!"

Joker rolled his eyes, turning to look at her.

Oh right. Joker. Never mind.

Harley looked around. Though the plants were active, and seemed to be moving slowly towards the car, they didn't seem aggressive. Yet.

"Maybe they're not going to hurt us?" Harley suggested.

"Maybe not." He didn't sound convinced.

"She might not even know that the formula is dangerous."

"Maybe." His eyes were still on the plants outside.

"It might not even be dangerous to plan-"

Harley was interrupted by the huge vine in front of them exploding. It coated the car in green goo, with bits of it seeming to get everywhere. Joker and Harley froze, neither of them doing or saying anything for a moment. Then Joker reached out and turned on the wipers, pushing the remains of the vine off the windscreen.

The other plants all around the car seemed to come to life, slithering rapidly towards them. Joker's head slowly turned to face Harley, eyes widening, before slamming on the accelerator and driving through the remains of the plant towards the gates.

What happened next was a blur. One minute they were driving, the next there was a huge crack as the drivers door was wrenched open. The car slowed, and Harley could see another one of Ivy's vines wrapping itself around Joker. He fought against it, as the car slowed, but it was no good, and within seconds he was gone: ripped from the car before her very eyes. But the car was still going, and Harley could do nothing but hold up her hands to shield her face as it crashed into the brick wall beside the gates to Arkham Asylum.


	34. Chapter 34

**Ok, here we go, this is the final chapter to Crazy In Love, I really hope you enjoy it, and i'll write a more detailed farewell/thank you at the end!**

 **Hope you like the final chapter :)**

* * *

When Harley came to, she felt like her brain was about to burst out of her skull. She reached up to her forehead, and her fingers came away slick with blood. Everything seemed to be spinning, and she gave herself a few more moments with her eyes closed before attempting to move.

Eventually she pulled down the mirror in front of her to get a closer look at her wound. It wasn't too bad: her forehead was cut, but it didn't look deep. Harley snapped the mirror back up, not wanting to look at herself for any longer than she needed to.

 _Well, everything is fucked._

 _What are we gonna do now, Harls?_

She looked around, trying to remember where she was. They had been driving, she knew that much, and Joker had been pulled out of the car by one of Ivy's plants. She could see now that the car had crashed into the wall beside the Arkham gates. The front of the vehicle was crumpled and smashed, and steam escaped from the bonnet. She unclipped her seatbelt, and climbed out, her legs shaking a little. The plants were still there, but were no longer moving. They continued to ripple with green light though, which was almost hypnotic, and rather calming on a night that had been so full of chaos. There was no sign of Joker. The asylum grounds were quiet, and the sky was so clear she could see all the stars. Harley looked back at the open gates with longing.

 _I'm so close, if I step through those gates I'm out of this place._

She sighed, turning away and heading back towards the asylum. Of course she was going nowhere, not without Joker. Ivy had him, she had to find a way to get him back.

 _Maybe if I ask nicely, she'll give him to me. We're friends after all._

 _We_ used _to be friends. Who knows what all that Titan in her beloved plants has done to her. She hasn't exactly been chatty over the past few days._

* * *

It didn't take long to work out where Ivy was set up: the plants all seemed to be sprouting from the greenhouse. It was called the greenhouse, but it was really a building much like the others, perhaps just a little smaller, and with slightly larger windows. The low security patients were allowed to go there for some calming meditation among the flowers. Harley had been in when she was a doctor, but never as a patient. Ivy had never been allowed in either, having been judged too dangerous, though Harley was sure one of her enamoured guards probably took her there more than once.

Harley half jogged, half stumbled, up the steps towards the large glass doors. She wasn't feeling too bad, the crash didn't seem to have caused any permanent damage, other than leaving her a bit bloody and bruised. At the top of the stairs, Harley placed her hand against the cold glass of the door. There was a bloodied handprint alongside her own. She hoped it wasn't Joker's.

Harley took a breath, opening the door slowly. The building was warm, warmer than it used to be, and there was a sickly sweet smell in the air. The lights flickered on and off, and most of the windows were smashed. Broken glass crunched beneath her asylum-issued orange shoes. Harley's heart was racing, she had no plan, no weapon, and no idea what to expect. Was this a stupid idea?

 _Yes. It's a completely stupid idea._

 _Maybe I should stop, try to plan this?_

She shook her head, no, she didn't have time for that. Not only did she have no idea what Ivy was planning to do with Joker, but she also couldn't be sure how long the Batman would be tied up for. She wanted the two of them to be long gone by the time he escaped. Harley sucked in her breath as she passed two guards, hung up by their necks from vines to the left of her.

 _Oh Ivy, I guess they weren't expecting that after all those gifts they smuggled into your cell._

* * *

Harley continued on down the corridor, and could see a large door at the end. It was open, but a curtain of vines completely obscured the view inside.

 _Should I call out? It might reassure her if she knows it's just me._

 _Or it might warn her and she'll get ready to have her plants kill me._

She decided to take the chance. Ivy might be less willing to hurt her than if she thought it was a stranger coming through the door.

"Ivy?" She called. "It's me, sweetie, Harley. Please don't let your flowers to kill me."

No response, so Harley decided to risk it. Gently, very gently, she used one hand to sweep the vines to the side, and entered the room.

It was hard to tell, when inside, whether it was a room at all. It looked far more like some kind of rainforest. The walls had completely disappeared, either broken or blanketed by plant life. Right in the centre of the room was a huge plant, which looked like a gigantic version of the Venus fly trap Harley used to have on her coffee table at home. Before she forgot to water it and let it die, of course. That was a story she had no intention of sharing with Ivy.

Speaking of Ivy, there was no sign of her in the room, but Harley could see Joker! He was at the far end of the room, tied to the wall with vines, but alive. In fact, he almost looked bored.

Harley ran over, "Puddin'! Are you ok?"

"Just swell," Joker drawled. "Your friend is great."

"Where is she?"

Joker nodded over Harley's shoulder, and she turned in time to see the huge flower of the plant descending down to ground level. It rested for a moment, then opened. There was Ivy, standing inside. She looked so different now: her skin was completely green, and many small tendrils and leaves of ivy plant were entwined around her arms and legs, like delicate jewellery. She wore just a red shirt and her panties, and her hair flowed gently in delicate curls. She looked beautiful. And terrifying. Her eyes glowed slightly with a soft, emerald light.

"Harley," Ivy's voice was a purr, sensual and alluring. She spoke her name gently, stepping out of the plant. She was barefoot. "I hoped you wouldn't come, I didn't want you to see this."

"See what, Ivy? Don't do anything stupid now."

Ivy moved gracefully towards Harley, making no sound as she walked. The plants around the room seemed to turn towards her, as if in awe. It was like they could see her, or at least feel her presence. Harley knew she and Joker were in far more danger than she had first anticipated.

She softened her voice, stepping to the side to block Joker, who was regarding Ivy with scorn in his eyes.

"Ivy, doll, won't you please let him go? We just want to leave this place. You and your plants can do whatever you want with it."

But Ivy shook her head. "He tried to poison my babies."

"Your babies?" Harley realised she meant the plants, and shook her head, holding up her arms in a placating gesture. "He didn't mean to! He didn't know the formula was going to do that! And besides-" Harley looked around- "the rest of your…babies, seem to be doing ok."

Ivy sniffed. "For now. They're stronger than those pathetic humans, but who knows how long they can fight the poison?" Her eyes blazed, and she looked past Harley at Joker. Harley knew Ivy wanted to kill him, and there was probably nothing she could say to stop her. But she had to try one more time.

"Ivy, please, don't make me-"

Ivy's eyes whipped back to Harley. "Don't make you what? Are you going to kill me, Harley?" She put her hands on her hips, seeming to get even taller. Green light began to ripple beneath the surface of her skin.

 _Has she been taking the Titan too?_

Ivy continued, her tone clipped. "I thought we were friends. I helped you, more than once."

"I know, but you know how I feel about him." She nodded to Joker, who still looked almost bored. How did he manage to be in so much danger, yet look so relaxed at the same time? Harley put her hand gently on Ivy's arm. The nearest plant seemed to twitch, but made no effort to grab her. Harley tried to make her voice as soothing as possible. "Let me take him out of here, and we'll never bother you again."

Ivy shook her head. "No. Leave if you don't want to see it, but I'm not letting him go. He's too dangerous, and he has no compassion for my babies."

Harley took a breath, trying to decide the most gentle way to continue, to prove that Joker did in fact care about Ivy's 'children'. Joker, however, didn't seem to sense the tone of the room, and sighed dramatically. "Just burn the plants, Harley, and let's get out of here."

Harley gritted her teeth, knowing Ivy would definitely not appreciate this comment. She was right, and Ivy cried out in exasperation. She snapped her fingers, and the vines around Joker immediately tightened. He choked a little, as the air was pushed from his body. Harley's eyes widened as she watched him suffocate, and then she threw herself at Ivy. For whatever reason, Ivy wasn't expecting it, and was knocked to the floor. Harley was on top of her, and put her hands on her friend's throat. Ivy clawed at Harley's face, but she used her knees to pin Ivy's arms down.

"Call them off," Harley growled. "Call off the plants!"

Ivy's eyes were burning with anger, despite the colour draining from her face. But she wasn't going to release Joker, even though Harley was strangling her.

Harley could feel something twining around her arms, and she was wrenched off Ivy by more vines. They pulled her away roughly, heading towards the opposite wall from where Joker was being choked. But they weren't holding her a tightly as they had him, and she had always been flexible. Harley managed to struggle free, and landed gently on the floor. The vines whipped at her as they tried to grab hold again, but she was fast, and managed to outrun them.

She ran towards Joker, who was now devoid of what little colour he usually had in his face. He gasped for air as Harley approached, his eyes watching her. He looked as though he had accepted his fate: he was giving up. But Harley wasn't, there was no way she was letting him go now, not after all they had been through! As other vines whipped and cut into her skin, in an attempt to get hold of her, Harley ran across the room, using everything she had learned in her one free-running class to help her avoid being grabbed.

Ivy was climbing to her feet, with the aid of some more plants. But she looked weak, and Harley was vaguely aware that she may have hurt her more than she meant to.

 _I did mean to._

But this was good, the weaker Ivy was, the more time Harley had. Plus, more of the vines seemed to be coming to Ivy's aid, so less of them were focused on Harley.

At the other side of the room Harley found what she was looking for: a wheelbarrow containing garden shears and some weed killer spray! She grabbed these things as if her life depended on it, which it did, and ran back to her clown.

Harley held up the weed killer, ready to spray the vines holding onto Joker.

"Don't breathe, baby," she whispered, to which he rolled his eyes. "Oh right, yeah. Haha." Harley sprayed the vines wrapped around his neck and chest, and within seconds they began to recede. She used the shears to cut the remaining ones, and Joker fell to the floor. He gasped for air, and Harley knelt beside him, helping him to his feet.

"You!" Ivy hissed, and Harley spun around. The redhead was approaching quickly, her face burning with anger. "You hurt my babies!"

Harley moved closer, blocking Joker once more, and holding the weed spray out like a gun.

"Let us go, Ivy. I don't want to hurt you, or your plants, but if you don't get out of the way right now, I'm going to empty this thing in your face and burn this place to the ground."

Ivy bared her teeth, but stepped to the side. Harley nodded to Joker, who – still gasping slightly- made his way towards the door. Ivy never broke eye contact with Harley, who kept the spray bottle on her at all times.

"Watch your back, Quinn," Ivy breathed.

"Miss you already, Ivy." She blew a kiss, throwing the bottle of spray onto the floor and following Joker out of the room as quickly as she could.

* * *

Harley had been driving for at least half an hour, and she and Joker were back in the familiar streets of downtown Gotham. It was dirty, loud, ugly, and she couldn't have been happier to be back. They had stolen another car from the parking lot: much older and slower than the last one, but it didn't matter. She would've taken a tandem bicycle with a squeaky wheel if she'd had to, as long as it meant getting out of that place!

She glanced at Joker, who was looking much better. He tapped the dashboard, wanting her to stop the car. She did, and he nodded at the building beside them: a large department store, closed for the night.

"Wanna do some shopping?" He asked, grinning wickedly.

Harley squealed, "Hell yeah!"

They got out of the car, with Joker actually getting out to open her door and take her by the hand! Harley wasn't used to that kind of treatment, but grinned from ear to ear as she let him lead her from the vehicle.

"Oh Puddin', you're so romantic," she sighed.

Joker flashed his silver teeth, before returning to the car. He opened the trunk, pulled out a tyre iron, and then used it to smash the window of the store. The alarms sounded, but neither of them cared. Joker held out his hand, leading Harley through the window, broken glass crunching under their feet. She was reminded briefly of walking through Ivy's greenhouse less than an hour ago, but shook the thought away. They were safe now: Ivy had probably forgotten all about it.

 _Maybe._

"Go crazy, it's on me," Joker grinned, gesturing to the rails filled with clothes, before heading off towards the men's clothing. Harley dressed quickly: choosing a short black and red dress with sneaker-heels. Then she found the make-up counter, and made herself pretty, finishing off by tying her hair in her signature pigtails. She grinned at herself in the mirror.

 _I finally look like me again._

She found Joker by the window, waiting for her. He was dressed in black dress pants and a plum coloured shirt, with a black tie. He looked beautiful, and Harley felt the butterflies in her stomach come to life again. This perfect man belonged to her, and he was smiling at the sight of her approaching.

"Oh baby, baby, baby. What did I do to deserve such radiance?"

"Oh shush," she replied, rolling her eyes yet unable to stop grinning. She took hold of his hand once more, and together they stepped out of the window and onto the street outside.

The sun was beginning to rise, and Joker pulled her close, kissing her passionately there in the open. She flung her arms around his neck, feeling his strong heart beating against hers. They were finally together again, finally how they were supposed to be. She and her clown were two parts of a whole, and now they could try to find out what to do next. The whole world lay before them, and Harley couldn't wait to take on the adventure-

"Stop right there!"

Harley looked to her left, her arms still around Joker's neck. Gotham City PD were watching them. Ok, it was only three cops, but they all had guns pointed in their direction. Joker sighed, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Talk about a mood killer."

"Get down on the ground, now!" The one who was yelling looked younger than the others, and sounded nervous. Harley kissed Joker once more.

"Let me handle it, you stay here," she whispered, turning around and holding her arms up. "Ok, we give up." She walked towards the cops. "You can take us, we'll come quietly."

"You've never done that in your life, I'm pretty sure they can hear you coming in Metropolis," Joker quipped, and Harley giggled, eyes still on the cops. She continued her slow approach.

"You stay back!" One yelled, but not at her. He was yelling at Joker: the one they recognised, the one they saw as the true threat. They didn't care about her, not really, not when the Clown Prince of Gotham was only a few feet away. Harley turned, but Joker was staying put for now, doing what she had told him to. But his cold eyes were the cops hungrily.

"We'll come easy," Harley said reassuringly.

"That's true enough, how long have we been locked up?" Joker drawled, and Harley giggled.

"Oh honey, you kill me!" Then she turned, immediately kicking out and knocking the nearest cop to the floor, cartwheeling out of the way of the other two as they turned to fire on her. She heard the loud clang of the tyre iron hitting the floor, and knew Joker had thrown it at one of the cops. Sure enough, there was one on the ground with a smashed face. Joker was beside her now, wrenching the gun from the man Harley had knocked over, and shooting him in the leg, before turning to the one standing up and shooting him in the knee. He went down with a yell, but Joker didn't shoot him again. He turned to look at Harley, who cocked her head to one side.

"I'm in a good mood," he shrugged when he saw her surprised look. "I'll kill someone tomorrow instead."

Harley grinned, "I love you."

"That's because you're crazy."

Joker pulled her close, kissing her once more while the cops groaned on the floor around them. Then he took her hand, leading her to the cop car and closing the door behind her. He got in the other side, pulling away from the cops, still writhing on the ground.

* * *

"So," Harley began, as the streets of Gotham began to blur outside the window. She had no idea where they were going, but was surprised to find she didn't really care. Joker would decide, and she would go with it. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we go home and I bury myself between your legs for the next few days."

Harley grinned. "And then?"

"We need to get Jonny out of jail."

Harley nodded, that was definitely a priority. After the first thing he mentioned, anyway.

"After that," Joker continued. "We start the new plan."

Harley cocked her head to the side. "What's that, baby?"

Joker grinned. "Bruce Wayne." He didn't explain any more, but threw his head back, laughing raucously. Harley couldn't help but mirror his actions, laughing hysterically beside him.

 _He's crazy._

 _But it's ok, because I'm pretty sure I'm crazy too. I must be, because this is the happiest I've ever been and the most scared I've ever been, and I wouldn't change a second of it!_

 _Me and my clown, we're gonna change the world, and even if we don't, we're gonna have fun trying!_

 _Joker and Harley Quinn. King and Queen of Gotham City!_

* * *

Six months later, when Harley thought of this moment, she couldn't believe how wrong she had been.

* * *

 **Thank you so much to all of you for sticking with me, and being such dedicated readers. It's been wonderful to get so many kind reviews, and to hear your feedback about the story! And to have so many people favourite or follow the story, and favourite/follow me as a writer is so lovely, and I really can't say how much I appreciate it!**

 **I hope you liked the ending: it wasn't exactly how I had always planned it! I had a completely different idea originally, however it left little room for the sequel I had in mind. Without giving too much away, the original ending led pretty neatly into the start of Suicide Squad, with the idea that you could go from this, directly into watching the film, and it would almost flow quite nicely? But I've had some ideas for a sequel, and although I actually intend to use the events of Suicide Squad (probably a good idea seeing as that's the category I've put this story in!), I'm planning to change them quite a bit, so the original ending wouldn't have worked. By doing it this way, I wanted to get a little glimpse of Harley's happiness, and her visions for their future together, so we know what she's expecting when we start the next one, and can see how her dreams/ideas have changed.**

 **Anyway, enough rambling, thanks again for all your lovely words, and I hope you can stick with me for the sequel, which will be coming very soon. It will be a little different to start with, but I promise I'm not going to do anything too out of the blue. I love Joker and Harley, and though there are tough times ahead for the couple, they're destined for each other.**

 **Hopefully see you all for the sequel :)**

 **Mel**


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